A Demon's Pursuit
by smilingcrescent
Summary: Sebastian needs a master to form a contract with, and Ciel seems to be just what he needs...however, Ciel is having none of that. Especially not when Sebastian breaks into his dorm room. (Ch. 34): Ciel ponders what's left in his life, and he wonders what 'victory' is...and its cost. (AU. demon!Sebastian. trying!Ciel. Dry humor, Canon type SebaCiel. )
1. Late night intrusions

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Kuroshitsuji. No money is made on my endeavors.

**Warnings:** Ciel is 14 in this story, and there will be **no** explicit lemons. None. Stop reading if that's what you're looking for. Now, if you like suggestive, sometimes humorous, sometimes "ohh, Sebastian is kinda sexy..." bits, this may be for you.

**Light Romance:** Actually, I'm not sure whether to call this romance, slash or boy's love at all. XD Sebastian is bloody possessive, can be sentimental and suggestively teasing. But Sebastian and Ciel are certainly not dating. Sebastian's Pursuit is to get Ciel into a contract, not into bed. I like to think that it's the kind of suggestive SebaCiel found in the manga. You don't have to squint to see _something_ there, but it's a stretch to call it "romance."

This fic is dedicated to _Carrie_, my beta. She is the devious-mastermind who convinced me to write it. The plot, however, convoluted and strange as it is, is my own. Alas, any complaints go to me. Critique is preferred to flames.

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**A Demon's Pursuit**  
_Temptation_: Teaser

"My, my, but what a small master you would be..."

Too surprised to do more than think half a dozen questions, Ciel merely stared in open-mouthed silence.

The figure crouched on the windowsill, bent over in something like a bow. The first thing Ciel noticed was the white of his eyes, which seemed silver in the moonlight. Something in the tilt of his head, or the thin half smile jolted an idea into his mind. _He's the young man from Takeshita Doori. The one who seemed to be searching for something._ He seemed wilder than before, and far too pleased with himself.

"What the hell are you doing in my window? Get down from there and go away," Ciel snapped. Never before was he so pleased to be in a private dormitory with no roommate to wake up.

"A bit young, but promising, I think. Most people would want to know if this was a dream…"

Ciel decided not to voice his doubts. If he's dreaming up stalkers now, he figured he ought not to let the stranger know he doubted his existence.

"Let's make a deal." The intruder sprung down from the window and landed silently next to Ciel. He made no more noise than the soft swish of his clothing. "If you pay the dues, we can forge a contract. I will be your loyal servant for the rest of your days, and you will have nearly limitless power."

"Rubbish. Are you barking mad?" Ciel scoffed. "You'll get me expelled. This is a private school, and you're not allowed in after hours. Or even in the day, unless you sign the guest register. How did you get in here without setting off the alarm, anyway? It goes off if someone so much as opens the window."

"Alarm? I heard no one sound an alarm." The intruder's brow furrowed. It would be comical if Ciel thought he might be less serious.

"The alarm _system_. Get out before I set it off myself." Ciel threw a plush rabbit at the intruder.

"Mr. Phantomhive? Who are you talking with? Is everything all right in there?" Kujirai's timid voice was muffled through the door. Ciel was never happier that his room was closest to the hall-master's room.

Ciel shuffled out of bed, pulling the headphones out of his phone as he made his way for the door. He glanced behind him to see whether the intruder would be visible from where he stood, but he saw no one there at all. He cracked the door open.

"Yes?"

The third year student was still in nondescript pajamas, blinking even more owlishly than Ciel. He looked discretely through the frame, but didn't try to force his way in.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Phantomhive?" he said slowly, leaning forward just a bit. He looked nervous, as though confronting the international student in his hall was the last thing he wanted to be doing at just after midnight.

"No, Mr. Kujirai. I was just listening to some music. I'll turn it down." Ciel fidgeted with his phone, as though he might be turning the volume off.

"Is the window open?" Kujirai pushed up his wire-frame glasses, looking more troubled. "Did you open your window?"

"No, ah, no, it's not open," Ciel said hurriedly. And sure enough, when he turned around to glance nervously at the place the intruder entered, it was closed.

Having seen that window open just moments before, the sight surprised even Ciel. Both students stared at the now-closed-window. An awkward silence stretched on before Kujirai cleared his throat.

"Of course you didn't. You do know that an alarm will be set off if you open the window after 22:00, don't you?" He kept his chin tucked in, making his eyes appear larger and more earnest.

"Yes, I know. Sorry for disturbing you."

"Good night," the student said, and walked slowly back to his dorm room.

Ciel turned back to the window, expecting to see the image of a ghost or a monster, but nothing changed, even with his senior gone.

He was alone in his room, left to wonder if anyone was there to begin with.

oOoOoOo

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...tbc...

So. This is worth continuing...right? Thoughts? Reviews are better inspiration than anything.


	2. A Challenge

Warnings: none.

**A big thank you to**: isthisparadise, Disgruntled Minion, SisterOfScarletDevil, promocat, liketolaugh, and Carrie2sky . Also, thank you, all guests! I think this is the most attention I've ever gotten in one go. Wow.

Thanks again to Carrie for the beta.

**o0o0o0o**

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**The Challenge.**

(Sebastian_...a few hundred years earlier...)_

.

.

I remember…

It was the turn of the century, when I last made a contract with a brute of a man. Towards the end, I rather thought I should have been more selective.

I gave another blow to the side of my master's victim's ribs. Something cracked. He screamed, and the dark, dank room filled with an acrid stench. It was disgusting.

My master, a stocky, middle-aged man, always asked for the same thing.

"Sear the terror of below into their hearts. Terrify them into telling you everything," he demanded. "We will have the confession!"

Everything he wanted to hear, that is. And to think, he told the judge, 'It is my duty to find the truth.' A century ago, he would have made a wonderful witch hunter.

Ah, but the blood sprayed so. I shook my head and got the job done. I reminded myself of one simple truth. _All contracts must end. After cultivating the soul, my patience will be rewarded…_

So I smiled, and my dull master's victim continued to scream.

o0o0o0o0o

* * *

_(The Present: ...a day earlier.)_

After that substandard contract, I stayed away from humans, didn't listen to their calling for some time. Or perhaps I was away for a great deal of time. The company I kept didn't bother keeping updated with human doings.

"…are you even awake?" A low, unruffled voice interrupted my relaxation time.  
"You're getting positively lazy, even for an old one."

I frowned, opening my eyes a crack. "Begging your pardon, sir. But what does it matter if one such as I is engaged or not?"

"Hmm," the other one said. He managed to make the single syllable into a disapproving litany. "I'm willing to wager you've been out of commission for a time. Your last master was during the turn of the century, London, wasn't it? And you've waited to be summoned since then…"

"I prefer not to dine on the first blundering fool I come across." I turned away. "I find my preferences are shared by everyone except for the very young...or the very greedy."

"Hmm." Again. Long fingers tapped absently on a lean arm. "I'm bored, you know. And I'm sure there's some rule, or some custom of our aesthetics that, eh, recommend we venture out into the world once a century at least. To tempt. To lead astray delicious morsels."

With one long considering look, I marveled at the state of his cloven hooves. It made my lips twitch into an unkind smile. That kind of form is so expected…so cliché.

"And what of it?" Irritation slipped into my voice. It's not often someone deigns speak to me like that.

"A challenge." Ah. Is that a horn poking out of his hair? "A game, if you will…" At my murderous look, he appeared to hurry towards me. Doubtless, he'd have preferred to have a staring contest for a few years to 'pique my interest.'

"Go up to the world again. Do as the great Old Ones did, and explore the earth and its young…innocent…souls. Find new lands and exploit the ones living there."

I uttered a bored _mmm._ However, in reality, my curiosity was nearly tangible. How would That One phrase it? "That hardly seems a challenge…" I sneered.

"Oh, but I'm not finished." He smirked. I caught a red glint in his eye. "You have to do it before the moon has finished her cycle. You must find a soul who fits your aesthetics…" His smile widened. "Then, you win. In such an instance…you will earn one small favor from myself. The contract in itself is a reward, after all."

I draw myself up to my full height, and lean over him. "And should such a soul fail to present itself…?"

"If you can't find someone, then you lose." His smile is wicked. "And I will have you as a slave for one moon."

It was an interesting prospect. To be sure, demons of old did indeed wander the earth searching for souls. But in recent times, a demon must be summoned—promised a contract and bound to flesh and blood chains. Without these precautions, our form and abilities are…unstable. Sometimes too much for the humans surrounding us.

"New lands…" I murmured. "Anyplace I've never been should suffice."

He nods slowly, eyes gleaming like fire. "Do you accept my challenge?"

I smiled, showing pointed teeth and a red, red tongue.

* * *

The stench of the World was enough to knock the breath out of even the most experienced demon. But the old smell of horse, men and smoke had been replaced by the unpleasant smell of men by the millions, unfamiliar smog and dust. What used to be muddy streets and cobblestone was a vast stretch of poured stone and what appeared to be tar. Trees were thin, pitiable things lining these new streets, and flowers were only growing from pots. The largest city in Japan was a conglomerate of artifice and people.

My feet touched the ground amidst the confusion of a hundred people trying to cross the painted white lines on the road.

"Kiotsukero!" A young delinquent shouted in a derisive manner. He gestured for me to move forward.

I followed the herd to one side of the street, thinking as I walked. Metal carriages started up as soon as a light changed, expertly avoiding a few straggling humans.

I looked back to see a flashing light. "Ah," I said to myself, "Electricity."

It was a sight different from the electric grids they'd managed before. Before, only the rich had the benefit of electrical lights, and those were liable to go out any minute.

The speed of the vehicles surprised me- what other little tricks had the humans developed since the time of textile mills? The dangerous machines I remember from before, not to mention those cars my master longed after were hulking things, jerky and slow. More prominent in my memory were the clothing mills that caught girl's hair and fingers in their inner workings, biting off hands and pulling off scalps. Such had been the fate of the low-born in those time. Why weren't these nasty little lowlifes comfortably out of sight in the present?

More phantom than physical at that time, I changed the image of my clothes as I walked, imitating the dubious fashion of a young man who returned my eye. The gabble of the masses was still strange in my ear; so very different from the traveling Japanese I met in the distant past. I puzzled over the unfamiliar sounds, and gazed at the wonders pressed to ears, and the gaudy colors the human's clutched in the shapes of bags.

Thoroughly overwhelmed, I decided to follow less crowded streets and walk a while. I took to a rooftop to rest after a while, listening and watching. My Japanese was antiquated, and I only understood a third of what was going on around me. Finally, I lurched to my feet.

I peered into the crowd. I could make out the text on a girl's paper bag—a cream thing with elegant copperplate. It read, 'Fashionable Elegance for Ladies.' A strange turn of phrase, so I followed her on a whim, taking care to put distance between us.

"Welcome!" Criers called from roadside shops. "Welcome!" Again and again, they took on a whiny tone, obviously trying to capture the attention of passersby. When I met one of the shop attendant's gaze, she hastily looked away, blushing.

In hesitant, broken English, she called, "For your girlfriend?"

_Ah, so she has enough desperation in her to see me. _ The familiar pang of hunger rose in me at that thought and I found myself stepping closer to the girl.

I wondered if I had the look of this century's well-to-do, wondered if she would give me license to act above her station. Two steps took me to her, and I reached out to grab her chin. Her lip trembled and she stood stalk still as I looked.

But all hunger lay forgotten when I saw those orbs, frightened and delighted at once. She had never tasted true agony or despair, and her soul would be as bland to me as cotton. All sweetness and only vain spice in this one. Her worst fault was jealousy and greed, hidden behind a painted face and glittering nails.

"I'm afraid not, miss." And I let her go to continue the search.

I wandered down the street. Few people returned my gaze in this semi-corporal form. Humans could ignore the most blatant display of magic when it suited them—they would not see a monster in their midst if they did not wish to.

Bored, I allowed my thoughts to wander. _Is there any left among the sheep interesting enough to catch my attention? Perhaps I need to wait for nightfall…_ But this inattention was precisely how I let a tall human stumble into me.

"Sorry, sorry!" The tall man apologized as he brushed himself off. His refined English accent and tall stature marked him no more Japanese than I appeared.

"Don't be absurd," I snorted. "You seem to have come the worst."

Indeed, his elbow and knee seemed to be skinned, all white around the edges and just beginning to seep blood among the small black bits of tar and threads from his suit. He must have been walking very quickly indeed for such a badly skinned knee.

I gave him a level smile, wondering if he had the right ingredients to him to make a feast.

"Oh," he muttered. My hunger might have been written in my eyes, or on the play of my lips, because he took a step back. "Well. Are you lost?" He scrambled for words to distract us both.

"Just...exploring." I smiled.

"Ah, yes, well." The tall man coughed. "I'd best clean up a bit before returning to work..." he shifted painfully to one foot.

"Take care, sir. Truly sorry I have nothing better to offer you than an apology."

And I might have been a bit sorry. Sorry to smell blood so early in the game, sorry to be so utterly distracted.

I watched him go, and tasted many scents on him. Complex whispers only, though. Perhaps he was a man who once had many experiences in him, but he has walked away from them all. And now…the scent is watered with the droll, humble humility of a servile man.

"Oy!" Someone called from behind.

I felt my eyebrow twitch. Being noticed is fine, being ran in to by a mortal, is excusable. They wouldn't know any better, after all. I briefly entertained thoughts of snapping the caller's neck. Or perhaps playing with his eyeballs.

Wild laughter interrupted my musings. "Aaah, that was funny."

I turn to see a tall man, gray hair and dressed in robe-like clothes in a deep, charcoal gray. He had a presence about him that most mortals lack, and an age undefined by time's passage. I recognized the aura then.

The Reaper looked at me with his yellow eyes, and smiled in a slow, leering sort of way. "Are you looking for something, demon?"

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o0o0o0o0o

…tbc…

So, what did you make of Sebastian with the modern world? Amused?

Comments are adored, and gentle critique is admired.


	3. First Sighting

**Happy birthday** to Carrie! (My beta, the one who inspired me to write this.) I'll throw confetti and sing you a song. :D

Thank you to: yougitsune'mei, promocat, Paxloria, Carrie2sky, SisterOfScarletDevil, and isthisparadise. You guys are awesome! :D I really enjoyed hearing from you.

**MAJOR EDIT:** lol, sorry, that was the wrong document. XD thank you Paxloria! XD lol. that was silly of me. OK, off to sleep. I'm obviously delirious.

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**First Sighting**  
(Sebastian)

The Reaper continued to smile, long gray hair spilling over his tell-tale eyes. "You're not contracted, are you?" he shook one finger, as though I was a pet dog that's run away.

I looked at him in surprise. Reapers typically wore suits, in my experience, and all wore glasses—sometimes stylish, sometimes strange. "Beg pardon?"

His smile widened. "Ah. Yes. An uncollared imp, are you?" Without warning, he was a foot closer. He leaned in farther still, tilting his chin and raising his voice. "Haven't seen one of you in a while."

His breath was sweet. Odd for a Reaper to be eating on duty at all.

I recovered quickly, sketching a bow. "And whatever is a Reaper doing, so plainly clothed and walking amidst mortals?"

His smile widened, and unexpectedly, he laughed. "What's this? Me a…?" The laughter turned into guffaws. Men on the street turned to look. "Of course there are no reapers here." He gestured up at the sign of one of the buildings—some sort of café? He beckoned.

I frowned as he continued. "Won't you come in?"

Unwilling to leave the company of someone who spoke so plainly, I followed him. I suppose I expected him to attack me at any moment. But he didn't, and my bloodlust went unsatisfied.

The inside of the café was…unexpected. Instead of highly polished tables and curtains to hide a lady from view, or a coffee shop with men and boys sitting idly, low chairs surrounded small tables. And around these tables, rows and rows of colorful books were lined from floor to ceiling.

Instead of polite conversation, it was eerily quiet. There were only a few odd pockets of conversation toward the corner of the shop. Other people were sleeping in little booths, ignoring the bustling world around them. _Very strange,_ I thought, _for so many people to flock together, only to spend their time alone..._

"…what is this place?"

"It's a manga café…" he stopped and looked up at me from under his fringe. "Have you a name?" He wandered to a counter made of some sort of black rock.

Feeling like a bird lost in the storm, I followed. The rock was hardly cool under my fingers. Not rock then, but more manmade material. "Manga?"

"Call me Undertaker." He pulled out a tray of cookies and a small piping bag. He messily streaked the icing onto the cookies into a pictographic character. "Man…ga. It means comics, or if you take an old-fashioned look at it," he pulled the cookies apart and gestured from one to the other, "aimless pictures. You might have known the old Chinese form."

I raised an eyebrow at the vast collection of aimless pictures in his shop. To think of the librarians who would be scandalized at such promotion of eating near books. "Yes. I recognize some of the writing," I muttered, distracted.

He gestured vaguely to the walls. "Pick out a few books…the phonetic readings are written to the left of most characters in that section." He pointed. To be honest, I couldn't see the difference between one and the other. "Should give you wonderful mastery of the language, wouldn't you say?" He pushed a paper into my hands—a key to the cipher, perhaps.

I considered asking him more questions. But true enough; an explanation to the language would be beneficial. I pulled out a stack at random, and moved to a vacant table.

"Take your time," Undertaker murmured cryptically.

Of course, finishing the series took no time at all. A great deal of grammatical nuance and play was hidden among comical gags. After moving them back, I selected another.

I flipped through it, absorbing the images and the words as fast as a demon can. Simplicity itself, it was…learning a new tongue.

At the end of another series, I laughed aloud.

A young woman looked up, startled. Her dark eyes were wide under her false lashes, and she blinked prettily at me. "Is it good?" she asked.

"A study on society," I replied in kind, rolling my tongue around the accent.

She blushed furiously, and looked away, pulling at her mini skirt self-consciously.

Ah, yes. The contrast between the real and the depicted pictures seemed ridiculous. The bare skin in the comics brought to mind pornography from an age past. Looking at these, you might expect women to be scandalously dressed.

I looked around again. In reality, women trotted around in black stockings and multiple layers, keeping their birdlike legs mysteries to the men around them.

My attention was refocused by a soft sniggering noise. I turned to see the Undertaker with his hand resting at an awkward angle on a long-nailed hand, an idiotic smile on his face.

"Got the language down, then?" He grinned. "Tell me a joke, now."

"Why?" I looked at him curiously.

His grin got wider. "I'll give you some good information."

It didn't take a long look to guess that the Undertaker was a bit crooked, and perhaps a lot crazy. A joke? To a rogue reaper.

"A riddle then. What creeps in darkness with eyes of fire, and laps pain with a twisted tongue?" I returned carelessly.

"Hmm. Boring." Undertaker's lips twitched. "Try again."

Annoyed, I told him something cruel enough to make most men tremble, followed by a punch line strange enough to befuddle and amuse one of strange tastes. It worked. I doubt the customers would have guessed that the loud, not-quite-sane laughter was coming from the shop owner.

"In return," he continued, "I will show you a place…a place where a delicious, thoroughly entertaining soul awaits you." He twirled his hair around one bony finger, and the black nail caught on one strand. It snapped.

"On with it," I demanded.

And then he leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

* * *

oOoOoOo

I was looking for a boy. A child with a chipped heart, and sadness in him. Something fractured but not yet broken, and something that burned with ambition. And the Reaper believed—if his information was to be trusted—this young thing could be _here,_ milling around the youth fashion district in Takeshita Doori.

Armed with more modern language and some vague idea of modern times, I left the café looking for a sweet morsel.

The street appeared to be a tide of plastic umbrellas. On ordinary circumstances, the crowd was probably even thicker, but on this rainy day, only the dedicated fashion-conscientious youths were out to play.

Undertaker suggested that someone who might suite my tastes would be here, after all. How he presumed to know anything of my tastes, I was never sure, but the hints he dropped certainly got my attention.

I wanted a contract, and I wanted it fast. If I could get a contract on my very first day, surely I could ask any boon from the other demon. In this swirling mass of humanity, surely I could find one soul willing to take me on.

I kept an eye out for the boy, eyeing the throngs. Young women and men walked the streets, even while it was mostly girls' roadside shops. Some of them walked in couples, while groups of girls stood in gaggles eating something wrapped in carnival paper. Soft crepes rolled into a cone by the looks of it, but filled with ridiculously sweet cream and fruits.

I caught sight of a pair of boys, neither ethnically Japanese. One had the golden brown skin of an Indian, the other pale with dark hair. The smaller boy had the right feel about him. Something in him called me closer. I melted into the crowd near them.

"Ciel~" the Indian boy chirped exuberantly. "Let's go look at that one next!" the older boy was saying. He waved a colorful hand in the other's face, making rings and bracelets dance. The bright clothing suited him, though I found the jewelry a bit excessive.

I followed his direction. There happened to be a mannequin with a rabbit mask pulled over the head. The red eyes gleamed most appealingly.

"I wanted to see Closet Child," the smaller boy replied reluctantly. "We're here, right? We'll go there afterward."

But before either could make good on his desire, Ciel stopped walking suddenly, causing the crowd behind them to back up before they sifted around him. The boy fumbled with his bag and pulled out a slim black tablet. A phone, I realized belatedly.

_Ah, and that would be a smart phone._ Feeling particularly pleased at how quickly I was catching on, I allowed myself to move in a bit closer.

Those small pink lips twisted into a frown as he looked at the screen, reading something even I could not discern from this angle. "It's father..." he grimaced.

The Indian boy sighed dramatically. "Go on. He gets grumpy when you don't answer."

He slid a finger across the screen and lifted the device to his ear. His face became a mask, smiling brightly and sounding infinitely more cheerful. "Hello Dad. Have you come home early?"

I strained my ears to catch words across the distance, but nothing so quiet as that buzz could reach me.

At last the pair moved forward. They meandered over to a shop with more black than any other color, but otherwise little difference from any of the crowded shops. But they didn't enter. Instead, they went up the metal staircase, and headed for the second floor. A glass display of three frilly dresses was all I could make of this other shop.

I went to the staircase and considered following them. But the scent of the boy was in my memory, and he could not travel far enough to hide from me. So instead of watching him take his measurements and try for suitable colors, I decided to hunt the streets for a suitable look. _The clothes make a man, they said to my master all those years ago,_ and he was fitted for robes of velvet and shirts of silk.

He was a vile thing anyway, but perhaps I could fool the boy.

When he came out of the shop, I waited for him in a suit as black as the night. My hair, I styled in the way I saw on a fashion magazine that girls screamed over, and let my gaze fall on the boy…_Ciel._

He caught my eye on the way down the stairs, and I smiled.

Yes. I thought so. He had the right combination indeed.

* * *

oOoOoOo

*For the curious. I didn't include a translation of the Japanese in the previous chapter. But if you really want to know, ;) 気をつけろ (kiotsukero) is a slightly rough form of 気をつけて (kiotsukete) which just means "be careful." The rougher form might be better translated as "Watch it!"

*As mentioned in the teaser, Takeshita Doori is a famous street in Harajuku.

Now Review! D You know you want to…it may help me continue to post chapters biweekly. Motivation and all that… (coughs) erm. Anyway. I hate asking people for something, but feedback really is important.

Thanks for reading!


	4. That Butler, Named

**A/N:** Thank you _chibi-shueiri_ (thanks for the heads up about the chapter mistake!) , _Carrie2sky_ (you are too fun. you know you rule.), _James Birdsong_ (gah, such a compliment! I was very pleased. Thank you!) _Paxloria_ (again! you are very kind.) _promocat_ (you put so much meaning in one line, I am in awe.)_Murder-of-the-Night_ (You are sucinct and thoughtful in your reviews. I blushed, so happy.) _ SisterOfScarletDevil_ (you are so cute and cheerful!) and guests for your reviews. :) All of you! Your encouragement helps me post, even though I'm feeling a bit poorly. (Edit: I'm feeling better now, but tired...)

Thank you to Carrie for the beta!

**Chapter 4_ That Butler, Named._**

* * *

_**The Present:** Sebastian returns to Ciel's school the next morning after "the window attempt" failed. However, things are not as he expects..._

**(Sebastian)**

Leaving my prey before I had a chance to get him to take my bait may not have been my best plan.

Hiding among the empty classrooms and the eaves of the dorm rooms, I had the feeling that something was happening right under my nose…some other force tempting _my_ human. I put the thought out of my mind.

"Ah. I will have you soon." I said to myself.

Ciel's school was nearly impossible to infiltrate during the day. A visitor simply stood out too much when the students and teachers were in their classrooms or offices. However, changing my clothes into a school uniform, and coming in after the final lesson prevented even the most suspicious from noticing.

"You're not going to join after school activities then?" I asked Ciel.

He was currently studying like a pretty picture in his homeroom. His hair fell over his eyes, his small shoulders hunched over a notebook bleached white in the fashion of all modern things. Too bright and artificial.

"Ciel," I tried again.

He looked up, startled at his name. "What?"

"Aren't you going to join the others?" I stepped through the doors, making my way closer at a sedate pace.

"I'm not in a club." He drew back his shoulders. "And I don't want to join one, if that's what you're after."

I stopped before the chair in front of his. I smiled and drew it out slowly. No need to rush. I'll have him in the end. "Last night was most entertaining. It seems as though you were able to get a good night sleep after that?"

This got Ciel's attention. I could tell because he stopped writing. A long moment passed. He began writing again. It was almost as though he had completely written it out of his mind.

"Nothing to say?" I reached over and cupped his cheek.

Ciel drew back, startled. "What are you talking about?" Confusion and mild distaste flavor his aura.

Maybe it was the school uniform. "Last night. Much went unsaid."

"What are you getting at?" Ciel scoffed. He looked much more mature than his handful of years. "I'm sorry, but I don't know you."

I decided to ignore that comment. "Let's make a deal, Ciel Phantomhive. I can be your power. Grant you any of your desires or dreams. Let us mark the contract upon one another's bodies…"

Ciel straightened up. "You're laying it on a bit thick, don't you think? Anyone would think you a pervert." His voice was on the edge of giggling.

_Giggling._ I hate that part of young teens. "There's darkness in your soul," I told him. "I could compliment it. Match it. We could do great things together." I allowed the fires of Hell to shine through my eyes…but that boy was not moved.

"Does someone have a camera? Is someone waiting for me to say something funny? Or blush and confess my undying love?"

"I'm afraid not," I said, wondering why anyone would want to bring a camera here. The things are entirely too slow, large, and undisguisable. _Perhaps he just convinced himself it was all a dream after all…maybe the boy is more thick than I thought._

He closed his notebook, shuffled with his papers. When he looked at me again, there was no trace of recognition in his eyes. "Well. This _is_ about clubs, then, isn't it? I told you. I'm not entering. Whether you're drama club, art club or orchestra, I'm not joining any of them."

I took a sharp breath. Something happened to Ciel after I rather abruptly left his window . Something that made him forget my offer. _Who has his fingers in my plan?_ I supposed I'd have to rethink my plan…I can always show him what it means to contract a demon. The power I hold.

The door opened. It was the man from before—the klutzy fool who bloodied his knee after walking into me. "Ex-excuse me. We need to close the classrooms." He caught sight of me in my young-human form. "…Mr. Phantomhive, if you could move to the library with your….friend?"

Ciel sighed. "Yes, Mr. Agares."

Ah, Agares is it? Something pulled at my memory. I'll have to look at it later.

"And what are you called?" Agares eyed me with tentative curiosity.

Before I can think of a proper response, something odd happened. The cheeky little brat I'd marked as mine took a step forward and tucked his chin in, lying as easily as the best of them. "Michaelis, sir. Sebastian Michaelis."

A pleasant shiver ran over my body, flooding my senses with new energy. Ciel looked more tantalizing by the minute; already I felt I knew him better. He may not have accepted the contract mark yet, but with that thoughtless lie, he made things that much easier to exist in the physical sense. _No more of that being half ignored nonsense, not with a proper name. I still have time to talk him into the contract…_

And what a pleasure it will surely be.

* * *

oOoOoOo

tbc…

I'm sure you all can guess what Sebastian's next step to convincing Ciel is. ;)


	5. That Butler, Infiltrating

**A/N:** Thank you to all guests, Murder-of-the-Night (your gentle critique was very good, thank you). StrawBerry234 (hope this satisfies some of your curiosity! But there's more to come…), promocat (muwahaha), Carrie2sky (you darling.), Paxloria (cool! Glad you liked.), and SisterOfScarletDevil (*coughgrincough* I dunno, who would say such a thing? XD)

Thank you to Carrie for the beta!

o0o0o0o0o

* * *

**Chapter 5:** That Butler, Infiltrating.

(Ciel)

It was only eight in the morning, and Ciel Phantomhive was bored.

"Ciel, are you listening to me?" Edgar Redmond raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

Ciel, who hadn't been, quirked an eyebrow back at him. For a minute, he held a serious, 'I am so better than this' expression. Then his face cracked into a boyish grin. "Sorry. What?"

Redmond smiled thinly. He dropped his gaze to look at the custard cream and tea on his plate. "Do get us another cup of tea. Clear your mind for a minute, and I will organize today's events in such a way that it makes more sense to a sensitive child like you."

Amused, Ciel got to his feet and nodded his ascent. If it kept Redmond happily in the dark, he was more than ready to run a few errands. "I'll be right back."

It was Aoki Kei(*1), nicknamed Bluer, at the counter. As a seventh former—or a school senior—he was extended the opportunity to have a part time shift at the school café, _the Swan._ If Redmond was right, Bluer had been coerced into taking a shift there a few days of the week. Judging by his brisk manner, he wasn't pleased to be taken away from his studies.

_"To see if he can learn to actually speak in English and not just read all the damn time."_ Redmond had said waspishly.

"Morning, Bluer." Ciel smiled his shy smile; trying to look like a third year junior-high-school-student ought to look when asked to run an errand. "Could you make us two more English style teas?" He let his eyes slide away from Bluer's stern gaze, playing at shyness expertly.

"Of course." Bluer glanced at the display case and gestured. "Will you be having anything with it?"

Ciel shook his head, wishing he knew how to blush on demand.

"As part of the morning special, English style teas come with service," Bluer continued.

"You mean to say," someone drawled from behind, "'it comes with a free sample,' Bluer…we don't say 'service' like that in English." Undertaker—the eccentric café owner and trainer of all baristas, laughed to himself. He peered over the counter at Ciel from under a curtain of fringe. "Hello Ciel."

"That will be six-hundred yen." Bluer pushed a silver tray toward Ciel, who fished out the change. "Thank you so much. Please wait at the eastern counter."

Undertaker clucked disapprovingly, and then ruined the effect by sniggering. "'Please pick up your beverage,' hmm?" But instead of lecturing Bluer more, he followed Ciel to the opposite end.

Ciel, unnerved by the attention the resident ponce was giving him, didn't say anything. He shifted nervously.

"What did you name him?" Undertaker asked slowly, rolling the sounds in his throat.

Ciel looked down. Then he looked back at Redmond. "What do you mean?"

"The one you met." Undertaker leaned over the counter, his long, silver hair touching the countertop even though he was easily the tallest in the room. "He couldn't tell me before…" He put black-polished nails to his lips, as though to keep the laugh back.

Ciel decided on a prim retort. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Come now…" Undertaker procured another two teacups. The two dainty 'samples' were macaroons, by the look of it, but in the shape of skulls.

A cold sweat went over the boy's back, and he wished fervently that he had not tried to cover for the strange student earlier. _Where had that name come from, and why did it feel like he had some responsibility for the naming, rather than he remembered it?_

Instead of replying, Ciel took the tray, nodded apologetically, and escaped back to his table. When he sat down, it was to a calmer, friendlier Redmond. As he picked up the cup with one hand, Redmond slid his phone across the table.

There was a picture of a blond boy, Maurice Cole. The expression, instead of a soft, cute one he favored in public, was not a nice one.

"What's this?" Ciel asked, interested. "I thought you stopped—"

"Yes, I did. I remember what you found out Ciel…he's really not the kind of person we should be acquainted with."

_And yet you have his picture._ Ciel thought, bemused. He said nothing, though. Instead, he pursed his lips in a concerned sort of way.

"I heard he was going to the prefectural contest," Redmond remarked with an equally displeased frown. "So disappointed in him…"

Ciel waited.

"I wonder, Ciel, do you know if he cheated to get into that? I heard there were some troubles with the English Speech Contest last week…"

Ciel checked his notebook. "The teacher in charge, Mr. Clark, hasn't been to school in a few days. I don't know that there's anything we can do about it, anyway. The paperwork has all been filed." He picked up his own cup of tea. "Anyway, he probably needs that sort of reference to continue on to university. We can't begrudge him that, can we?"

Redmond nodded, apparently convinced. He looked at the macaroon curiously. "Hm. As usual, our café has strange confectionaries…"

Ciel nodded hastily. "Taste alright though."

"Oh, have you heard about Doll…?" Redmond asked cheerily. "On the Dance team and Gymnastics team. I heard she was going to a high-level competition too…"

Ciel settled in to listen, filing away those seemingly random bits of information. In his experience, you could never know too much.

* * *

o0o0o0o0o

Redmond parted ways with Ciel with a little wave. McMillan slid into place next to Ciel, starting to chatter almost immediately.

"Good morning, Ciel! Did you see on the schedule board this morning? I checked with Suzuki and class 3-2 doesn't have study hall for World Studies today!" His eyes shone brightly behind his large glasses.

"Really?" Ciel glanced up from his bag.

"You think Mr. Clark is back from hospital?" McMillan persisted.

Ciel shrugged and headed into their homeroom class with his head down, studying the chairs and desks in front of him with detached interest. "We don't have gym today, do we?"

McMillan made a confused noise, and sat down at his desk across from Ciel. He seemed confused about Ciel's lack of a real reply. He was busy rummaging in his bag for the day's materials.

Ciel got his desk together in a much slower fashion. He let his gaze wander lightly over his classmate's spaces, and a few nodded or greeted him a few times, whereas most just ignored him. Ciel, satisfied with this response, quietly congratulated himself. _No one looks twice at a quiet, studious kid, do they?_

Just then, the door swung open, revealing a teacher Ciel hadn't seen before. Tall, with dark hair and a long, pretty face.

"Wha—" Ciel started, but cut himself off before anyone besides McMillan noticed.

It was the boy from before—only he couldn't be a boy, not if he was subbing for homeroom. The one he named Sebastian Michaelis.

What was he doing at school?

"Good morning class." Sebastian took the platform with grace unnatural in a teacher. "My name is Sebastian Michaelis. I will be filling in for Mr. Clark while he recovers…"

Long fingers opened up the roll book. "Now, since this is our first time meeting, please answer roll. Correct my pronunciation if need be, if you would."

"Excuse me, sir," McMillan raised his hand. "But what happened to Mr. Nakamura?"

Sebastian looked up, nonplused. "He is otherwise disposed."

Sebastian smoothly went on with the morning announcements. Finally, he closed his book and offered a tiny nod to the students. "That concludes the day's announcements. I'll see you all later in class." And he stepped back, preparing to leave. Before he did, his eyes fell on Ciel. "Mister Phantomhive. If I could see you in the hall for a moment." He smiled faintly.

Ciel was extremely confused and more than a little wary. "Yes, sir."

There was a quiet mutter in the class. Various people looked at him, some with surprise, some with something like suspicion.

Ciel felt his cheeks redden. This new teacher was going to ruin his good-boy image!

The hallway wasn't more private than the classroom, but the homeroom teacher coming in late was enough to distract most students. Also, Sebastian had a way of speaking low and quiet that it was difficult to make out what he was saying, even as close as he was to Ciel.

But no one could mistake the look in Sebastian's eye, or the formal posture he took—especially considering that he was addressing a fourteen-year-old boy.

"Have you thought about my proposal?" Sebastian put a hand on Ciel's shoulder, causing the smaller boy to bend his head down.

He hurriedly straightened up, realizing that it would look like he was talking about something serious. Getting advice, perhaps.

"I can't go making a contract with a member of the staff, now can I? I don't know what you're talking about." He scowled. "When did you become a teacher here, anyways?" Ciel turned away from Sebastian, showing his cheek and effectively breaking eye contact.

Sebastian laughed. His voice was low, musical, and unfortunately for Ciel, rather distinct. And noticeable. Whatever classmates had missed their leaving to the hall had definitely noticed by now.

Ciel felt his blush deepen.

"I would follow you to the end of the earth, Ciel Phantomhive. If I couldn't become a member of this school…." He lifted his gaze and smiled pointedly. "…I wouldn't be worth my salt."

Ciel stared at him, not sure what that meant. He shivered. That smile, and that voice_…could it be…_

"I do enjoy a challenge, Ciel Phantomhive. But I have the feeling you could use a better advantage here. Think about it, won't you? We could do great things, together."

Ciel sighed with relief when Sebastian removed his hand and straightened into his formidable height.

"…no thank you." Ciel said simply, and strolled back into his classroom.

Sebastian smiled, and watched him go.

* * *

**tbc…**

**Footnotes****:**  
(*1) Lawrence Bluer. Lawrence, coming from French, means "crowned with Laurel." As a boy's name in Japanese, you can say Kei or Katsura (the kanji meaning is laurel). Aoki literally means Blue tree…so this name is a bit of a pun going off of his original English name. Literally it's "Blue tree: laurel." I didn't want all of the characters to be ethnically non-Japanese when they live in Japan. Seems fair that way. But he will be referred to as Bluer. (:

(On Japanese Schools) There are two homeroom teachers. One main one (Mr. Nakamura in this story). The second teacher is the deputy homeroom teacher, or the assistant homeroom teacher. Sebastian is the assistant.

Also, the homeroom is the base unit for your school year. You take all of your classes with the same students in your homeroom. Ciel is a senior in middle school, so all his classes are with the same people.

**A/N:** ...so! Thoughts?  
What'd you think about Sebastian being a teacher? How'd you find Ciel's 'friends?' does that boy have friends, or only allies?


	6. Old Ties, New Faces

**Thank you! **To all favorites, follows, and subscription alerts. I'm amazed! :D

Big thanks to guests, promocat (so true. he doesn't understand friendship!), Paxloria (yes, Sebastian does! But first he's gotta figure out that Ciel sees him as less than powerful...silly dense demon), SisterOfScarletDevil (Yep, Ciel and his bluntness!), Murder-of-the-Night (ohh, happiness~! :D Thank you for picking up on my hints. (: Redmond scene was confusing? Hmm...Well, more will be revealed about him soon-ish. Chapter 10ish. If it doesn't make sense by then, I'll edit.), and Carrie2sky (you awesome girl you. I am so happy you're enjoying this story.). I'm so sleepy. But I eagerly await the morning. :D more stuff to write! Thank you for inspiring me.

Thank you to Carrie for the beta!

* * *

**Chapter 6 (Sebastian)**

**Remember: **It's the night after Ciel turned Sebastian down (a second time.) Sebastian realized that Ciel's memories have been tampered with…and closer observation may be necessary to protect his (food) quarry…

**Old Ties, New Faces: **Chapter 6

(That day at school, The Butler's perspective)

I reentered the school with a more optimistic mindset. What a wonder a change of clothes and brilliant idea will do for such things.

In the old days, a whisper or hint of the dark arts would have been enough to get a glimpse into the herd's mind, to read their expectations or to convince them that I did indeed belong. But times have changed and people don't believe in the unknown enough for those tricks. I needed…proper identification. Or at least a plastic card with my name on it.

"Ah, Mr. Michaelis. Thank you so much for coming." A thin, balding man bobbed up and down at me, offering a harried smile. "Have you been to this city before?"

"I'm afraid this is my first time, Mr…?"

"Ah, ah, sorry, sorry." He smiled uncertainly. "I'm Nakamura Junpei. Follow me, please."

For a school with as many students as I've seen, it wasn't too much of a surprise that there were enough teachers to fill a sizable room. They sat at two long rows of gray desks – half of which had papers stacked high.

"This is your desk. But today, you can sit by the vice principal. Could you make a short introduction?"

The desk he gestured at was as cluttered as the rest. I barely suppressed the urge to raise an eyebrow.

"Mr. Clark was in an accident," Nakamura explains. He paused meaningfully, as though to say 'so he didn't have time to clean his desk.'

Ah yes. Dear Mr. Clark found an unexpected landing on the stairway the other day. He needed a bit of a push, but he found more free time than he was expecting minutes before.

"He told me on the phone what his classes are doing, however. We can talk after the meeting."

I gazed upon the teachers, ethnic Japanese and others alike. I only half listened to the Vice Principal go through the day's announcements—dull reiterations punctuated by individual teacher's reminders. Bored, I watched their faces, curious at their personalities and how things were done in an age with so many students. Belatedly, I saw an abbreviated list of announcements in English. Ah.

Suddenly, mention of my assumed name caught my attention. "Today is Mr. Michaelis's first day substituting for Mr. Clark. Go ahead, Mr. Michaelis."

I stood, looking over the rows of desks. I quirked a half smile before beginning smoothly. "Good morning. I am Sebastian Michaelis, of England. Although we meet under less than pleasant circumstances, I am happy to fill in for Mr. Clark here at Yamamura International." I offered a Japanese style bow, and repeated my introduction in Japanese.

A quiet murmur went over the staff, and they clapped politely.

The vice principal, the clumsy Agares, stepped aside to let me pass, but he overestimated the distance. He knocked his elbow into the files precariously stacked by the whiteboard, sending papers and pens flying. The mess landslided onto my neighbors desk, and even a little onto my predecessor's.

"Oh dear." Vice Principal Agares sighed. He straightened his glasses, and untangled his feet from a foldable chair.

Never one to make a bad impression, I quickly righted things. Papers were reorganized into their files and alphabetized, pencils, pens and erasers put in their proper compartments and post-it notes neatly condensed into the class roll book. Finally, I scrubbed the surface of the two desks for good measure.

Around me, the teachers held their staff meeting for each year, seemingly oblivious. Thinking I might have to assist with the short homeroom before classes, I stood behind Mr. Nakamura.

Mr. Nakamura came back a few minutes later and laughed nervously. "Ah, it's very clean! Very clean, Mr. Michaelis," he frowned in confusion, clearly at a loss. "Ah, ah, you don't need to come to short home room," he said uneasily.

I nodded, and headed bask to the desk. Mr. Agares, however, had some form or other to check my "teacher's license," and wanted my "official seal," whatever that was. I didn't see any wax or metal insignia anywhere, so I could only imagine that he meant something else. He was just starting to explain the computer login system when he tripped for the second time, scattering papers out of the in box all over the floor.

I sighed. "I suppose I'll organize it again..."

A student seemed to have an accident the other day, and Mr. Nakamura stayed in the corridor getting the details out of the student as though she were some criminal suspect. I took the opening, and went to the short homeroom. He wouldn't miss me.

Homeroom was interesting. Of course, Ciel didn't say yes immediately— something I'd expected after observing the child. I could hear him making his way back to his seat amidst the catcalls and other comments of his classmates.

"Who was that? Phantomhive, do you know him?"

"Oh. My God. Wasn't he the—" a high pitched, overdramatic voice continued.

"He's bilingual!" Someone else said excitedly. "Like, really bilingual. Do you think he's half…?"

"No way, he's British! Didn't you hear—"

Hmmm, no matter the ages, humans are ridiculously easy to please. A pretty face, good manners, and they fall all over themselves. Any one of them would likely form the contract, but...

It's not just any overly sweet, untested soul that I want. Such easy meals were beneath one of my experience. No, only Ciel Phantomhive would do. He'll come to my beck-and-call…soon enough. He just needed a little nurturing.

I smiled to myself and left.

tbc...

Thoughts?


	7. That Butler, Teaching

Thank you for all favorites, watches, and reviews! You guys are great: SisterOfScarletDevil, Paxloria, promocat, Murder-of-the-Night, Carrie, and PhloxPopuli.

Thank you Carrie for the beta.

**A/N:** Curious as to how a demon teaches? Read on! If you're looking for more one-on-one Ciel and Sebastian interaction, look forward to Chapter 7. I thought it would be mildly interesting to look at the lesson part of a school fic, but I thought maybe a lot of you would prefer only to think about school at school, so you are warned.

Now. For a Hell of a History Lesson. :D

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o0o0o0o0o

**Chapter 7:** That Butler, Teaching.

I had been disappointed to find, on that first day, that I did not share a class with Ciel. I would have to wait until the following day to see him, but still had lessons to teach to various school children.

I knew that students were already talking about my lesson. Without much experience in modern public schools, I did take it upon myself to read a few books before my first class. But apparently I had done something different than my predecessor.

I could hear them from down the hall as I approached the classroom. "We've got Michaelis next!" mixed in with "Oh. I think I might die if he asks me a question…what if I'm wrong?!" and other ridiculous chatter.

When I came to Ciel's class with an armload of posters, magnets and scrolls, the class quieted, though the bell had not yet rung. As I began unrolling the drawings and fixing them to the board, they began to talk excitedly.  
I ignored them, waiting for….

The bell chimed musically.

I turned around to face the students. They preformed their quaint Japanese custom of rising and bowing at me, and I smiled at their eager faces.  
"Good morning, class."

Oddly enough, the Japanese students chorused this back at me, while the other nationals simply smirked. I glanced from the seating chart (posted conveniently on the podium) to the students.

"No absences then. Shall we begin?" They looked at me oddly, anticipation written in their posture. "Mr. Clark's notes said that you have completed the reading of chapter seven for homework. So let us begin with a quiz…"

There was a collective moan from the class. One student had the gall to mutter, "Not a _quiz,_" when students in the past would have gotten their hands slapped for such a statement..

"Today's topic is: The Industrial Revolution and the Giｌded Age. Working conditions. Textbooks closed."

While they put their things away and took out a clean sheet of paper, I wrote another title on the white board with a flourish.

"The worst jobs of the 18th and 19th centuries."

"Let's see which team can guess one of these unfortunate professions, and then guess the job description." I smiled at the sudden murmurings of the class. They exchanged confused or satisfied looks with one another, depending on their information.

I went on to explain the rules. "Each team will have a cumulative total for the end of the semester, or the end of my time at this fine school. A percentage of that total can be added to their homework score. As for this game, if you can guess without an illustrated hint, you will get ten points. If you can guess the description, but not the work title, you will receive five points."

"You have 20 seconds to discuss among yourselves. Begin."

"Professor Michaelis!" (*1) A Japanese student called Masuda began. "We're supposed to guess the name? Then the definition?"

"Just the professional title first. If you guess that much, you may guess the definition. If you guess incorrectly, we will move on to the next team. If you cannot guess a title, I will give an illustrated hint."

Without further ado, we began.

"Teacher?" One student guessed, grinning foolishly at me.

"Garbage man," the next guessed.

"Hangman."

"Ah... Farmer!"

"Peasant!"

I leveled that student with one eyebrow raised. Then I addressed the class. "Sadly, there were no garbage collectors. And your 'hangmen' were executioners; teachers and farmers would not have so difficult a time, baring pay." Seeing some confused faces, I simplified. "No. These jobs were not so bad. Also, peasant is not a clear occupation, it is a class. Please remember the premise of the game: what are the worst occupations?"

"If you can guess the conditions most teachers, farmers and executioners worked in, however, I will count them for two points each," I added.

The students exchanged nervous glances.

I flipped over five illustrations. "Or try these for two points. You have 20 seconds to discuss. The second row students now have a chance to answer."

The first illustration was of a boy holding a long-handled broom of sorts used for cleaning tight places, skinny and well under the average height of modern children his age. The second was of a grimy boy swimming in the Thames holding a long pole with string attached, carrying a bucket. The third was a boy with a knife next to a rat. The fourth was a man pushing a heavy load in a wheel barrel, while the final picture was a woman and child carrying a sack of something next to a line of soldiers.

Five minutes of happy chaos passed, and three jobs were guessed. They guessed the name and description of Chimney Sweep, Navy Man, and Rat Catcher, but could guess neither title nor description of the second and fifth image. I supplied the occupational titles for these remaining two: _Tosher_ and _Powder Monkey_. I snickered. Their closest answer for the second picture had been fishing.

"You may guess the description for either Tosher, or Powder Monkey. Row four and five, it is your turn. 20 seconds. Begin."

"Let's work with what we've got," Ciel said to his teammates, after a flurry of discussion in half coherent sentences. "Conditions of the Tosher, Professor Michaelis—can we answer now?"

"Go ahead."

Ciel straightened, stood up, and answered in a clear, imperious tone. "Clearly, he is not fishing for food, or he would be a fisher. Toshers are, then, looking for something in the dirty river. Conditions are bad. He can catch a cold, and probably earns little or nothing every day. It is probably only a job for the children of the poor who couldn't get employed for anything else."

I smiled, and awarded his team five points. The game continued. When they had started guessing wildly, I called the game to a close, reminding students to look up any information they wanted to know. "Now that we have finished the warm-up, we will continue with what is called the 'Industrial Revolution,' and the 'Gilded Age' in the Americas." I unfurled more illustrations and three large photographs. Thin and gaunt children sand before machines, their faces stark white, and the machines monstrous next to their small frames. I wrote the title on the top of the board.

Industrial Revolution 1760-1840: Life in Great Britain  
Cotton Factories Regulation Act 1819  
Child Labor in the Mills

"These are photos of working conditions in the mid to late 1800s, later than what we discuss today, but perhaps easier to grasp. The others are copies of illustrations in newspapers."

The spoilt, pampered children of these modern days were silent.

"Mass Production leads to more productivity, but also produced poor living standards for those working in the factories."

While the children began to take notes, I called to the losing team, "Kindly move the bins, row one. Yes, those. Over by the window will do." While they dragged their feet, I stepped into the hall. Ciel's eyes followed me out, incredulous.

"Professor..." McMillan said hesitantly, his eyes large and scared behind his glasses.

"This," I began, ignoring him, "is a bobbin." I held up a wooden spool. "This is cotton." The students laughed uncertainly. "And this," I gestured to the machine behind me, "is a spinning frame, a smaller piece of an Industrial Revolution machine that spun cotton into thread." I moved it on top of the podium. "It is smaller than a great many of the machines would have been in the past…and many of the more…dangerous…parts have been removed."

The students continued to stare.

"Professor," Ciel asked, amusement showing despite his attempt to look innocently reprimanding, "is that thing allowed in our classroom?"

I smirked back at him. "Of course it is. The principal fully endorses use of realia in a class-context. Studies show that students remember more when they can touch the past." I schooled my expression. "Now. Who would like to be a doffer?"

McMillan's eyes shot to Ciel. He looked interested, if a little panicked. "Professor?" He said.

"When these spools are filled, a doffer will clear them so that the process may begin again. It requires dexterity and speed. Which is to say, you must be quick and clever with your hands. Instead of a large water-powered wheel, I will operate the machine, and when it stops, you may take the cotton. If you are not fast enough…"

Ciel lowered his eyes.

"Your fingers may be caught."

Silence in the classroom.

"…in a web of cotton thread, and I shall mark a red 'x' on any fingers that might have been removed, were this an actual machine."

Students visibly relaxed, and chatter filled the air again.

I raised an eyebrow. They quieted. "We have time to do two demonstrations…so…ten students total may volunteer. I shall mark the individual points within your team, but it is not required…should we lack enough volunteers, the demonstration shall occur only once."

Privately, I wished that I were allowed to remove their fingers, but somehow, I thought that wouldn't win me any points with little Ciel Phantomhive. But I'm quite certain they'll remember the Child Protection Laws of the early 1900s, and the conditions that continued through the Industrial Revolution as a result of this…somewhat simplistic…demonstration.

I wonder if the principal would allow me to put the students in stocks when we get to the punishment section…

It's a pity they already finished the French Revolution. I could think of quite a few good demonstrations for _that._ Many of which involve a guillotine…

I smiled to myself, and the lesson continued.

o0o0o0o0o

* * *

* Sebastian would probably be called Mr. Michaelis, but Professor is just so much cooler...

Yay! Sebastian is awesome.

Now, a preview…

_Ciel, predictably, leaned in to make his point. "Oh, I have experience. But I'm not just going to tell you." The boy wrinkled his nose._

(Wicked grin) now, in what context could Ciel possibly be talking?

Oh! And how would you like to have Sebastian in your history class?


	8. The Computer and Sebastian

(Hopeful smile) it's my birthday tomorrow. I celebrate by writing. :D (and getting a custard tart!)

**Thank you **for commenting. Murder-of-the-Night (Glad you enjoyed the facts!), promocat (yes!), promocat (me too.), Carrie (love.), SisterOfScarletDevil (me too!), and Paxloria (good point).

Thank you for Carrie the beta!

* * *

o0o0o0o0o0o

**CHAPTER 8: That Butler, Learning. **

_Login via the computer._

Sebastian frowned. He stared at the glossy screen, and the tray of keys, not unlike those on a typewriter. Hesitantly, he added his smartphone to the mess. He may have read manga with people using these new contraptions, and even seen them used in person, but even still, he was no closer to using one for himself than was one of his new students up to teaching history class.

"Mr. Michaelis," a voice called from the door, "I brought 3-5's history notebooks." Ciel shifted unsteadily on his feet. "Where do you want them?"

Sebastian smiled and gestured for Ciel to come over. "I'll take them." He slid the computer odds and ends away.

Ciel eyed the freshly cleaned History Office. He seemed to notice the new cabinet, from the surprised (and slightly suspicious, if Sebastian didn't miss his guess by the way he frowned… that delightful frown was definitely a sign of confusion or suspicion.) the look he gave it all. _Just wait until he finds out what's inside_ he thought with satisfaction.

Apparently he'd seen the dusty surfaces, cluttered organization, and spotted floor before Sebastian had thoroughly scrubbed it.

To distract him, Sebastian asked him a question. "Ciel, do you have a moment? I'd like to ask you about how Mr. Clark evaluated these notebooks. They're a kind of copy of the textbook with some comprehension questions, aren't they?"

Ciel didn't respond. His gaze was fixed on something, the frown replaced by a smirk. Sebastian followed his gaze and realized _Yoku wakaru shoshinsha no tame no pasokon nyumon_ ("introduction to computers, an understandable guide for first time users") was still in plain sight.

"Are you having trouble with the Japanese system, Mr. Michaelis?" Ciel asked sweetly.

"You had trouble with that cellphone in class, too." The smirk had returned. He apparently had been quite amused by Sebastian's reaction…he'd not taken kindly to a beeping noise, or another student who dared to play games while he was speaking. The result had been…memorable.

"Are you offering to explain this... computer? You should be free for the afternoon." Sebastian smiled, and the tips of his teeth showed.

"I have to go."

"You said you weren't part of any clubs. Furthermore, you're a dorm student. What's keeping you?"

Ciel considered what to say. "Exactly how long are we talking about here?" He folded his arms.

"An afternoon. I'll even make you something nice for dinner. Something better than what you can get at the school cafe or _conbini obento,_" convenient-store lunches).

"Heeh. So Mr. Perfect can cook but not use a computer." The boy practically bounced with curiosity. Ciel took the chair next to Sebastian's.

_Hm, perhaps it will be that thirst for knowledge that will break him. _That thought pleased Sebastian enough that he forgot to pretend to be more knowledgeable (appear human, some might say) all together.

"I saw pictures of it being used. And the other teachers seem to use them frequently."

Ciel gaped. And then giggled. "Where have you been for the last twenty years?"

"In hell," Sebastian said blandly. "Show me how to 'turn it on.'"

Ciel did so. "Someone must have told you the teacher login and passwords."

"Who do I tell them to?"

Ciel stared. "You're joking."

"Quite." Sebastian's lips twitched. "Show me how to enter the words."

"You need to hit CTRL ALT Delete."

"I see them. Show me where you would hold your hands were you typing, if you would."

A half hour later, Ciel had explained the most commonly used programs and the Internet. Sebastian caught on with such speed and accuracy that Ciel was getting suspicious again.

"You're having me on. There's no way you couldn't _not know_ all of this and catch on so fast," he accused, his lips curled in a frown that Sebastian found charming.

"Teach me about _sumapho_ now."

Ciel rolled his eyes. "They're called smart phones in English."

The concept of tapping keys and icons instead of using a mouse and separate screen was, if anything, easier. By now Ciel was no longer surprised, however.

"You know, ordinarily, teachers confiscate cell phones when they ring in class, not throw them in the bin," Ciel remarked. "Besides, you put it in with the burnable garbage.(*1)"

"Everything burns," Sebastian replied.

Ciel nearly laughed. "Um. Anyway." He pulled out his model. "You know how to turn it on?"

Sebastian didn't answer, amused with Ciel's 'lesson.'

"So, this is the internet icon. We just went over that on the computer, so it's basically the same, except that this is how you get the keyboard out." He gestured. "And this is where you type the URL, and that's the back button."

"And the student was sending a...mail."

"Email. I already told you about email." Ciel looked at Sebastian, thoughtful once more. "There's no way you can't know this stuff..."

"I merely got the languages confused. In Japanese it is mail, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess..." Ciel pursed his lips and leaned back into his chair. "So, why haven't you asked all of this to a teacher? You know, someone your age…"

Sebastian shrugged. "You were here. I mentioned it to Mr. Nakayama." Sebastian observed, prodding the screen delicately. "But he was not interested in explaining...and many of the other teachers professed lack of proficiency with modern technology." He looked up to meet Ciel's curious gaze. "They said the only ones who can use it successfully are the youth."

Ciel fidgeted a little, trying not to look too superior. "Mm, maybe for the teachers here. But my Dad can use them all right. Actually, he can use smart phones to track runaway kids."

"Your father works with the law enforcement, then?" Sebastian asked, his voice silky.

"He's an investigator. Private, though, he works with the police sometimes." Ciel pulled out his own smart phone, glancing over the apps he had installed. "He knows a lot of people..."

"You don't seem to be lacking in that department."

"You mean friends? Of course I have friends. Sort of. Acquaintances..." Ciel said casually. The boy's eyes flitted to his teacher.

_Ah, how eager the young are to impress others..._

"Do you now?" Sebastian purred. "But are they of any use?"

"O-of course," Ciel stuttered. "I don't waste my time." He felt the sudden urge to open his phone camera, flip through the pictures, and prove exactly how well-positioned he was. But he stopped himself, barely. He remembered then, one particular picture… an image of Maurice Cole.

He swallowed. "But sometimes you don't know what use they'll be until later. Not until you have enough background to put their talents to use."

"And how could a child of fourteen do any such thing?" Sebastian observed. He turned the screen blank on his own phone, and leaned back.

Ciel, predictably, leaned in to make his point. "Oh, I have experience. But I'm not just going to _tell_ you." The boy wrinkled his nose.

"You're bluffing," Sebastian remarked. His gave a wry smile. "I don't think a child could do any such thing."

Ciel paused. He knew he was being pushed, and his first instinct was to resist. His second, to push back. But he smoothed his expression and went on.

"Anyway, look at the apps on your phone. This is the Gallery- you can see the photos you take with it.  
And Japanese phones have this infrared thing, called _sekigaisen_that you can transfer data with. Without an email, I mean."

"But mine doesn't have that. I have an iPhone..." Sebastian frowned in concentration.

They talked for several minutes discussing the finer points of apps and differences between their model phones of choice.

"What do you suppose the good of this is?" Sebastian wondered. He seemed amused. "What could we use this app for?"

Ciel shrugged. "I don't know. But there are all kinds of people. Someone has to find it useful, even if a high schooler or a teacher doesn't." He paused, reflecting. "I mean, I heard a friend of mine has some interesting problems. I don't carry that much cash on me, you know," he glanced at Sebastian surreptitiously, trying to gauge if Sebastian was too dense to think why that could be. "It's not safe."

Sebastian's lips twitched. He doubted very much that Ciel thought of his safety that often.

"I dunno what to do about this one situation though...what do people usually need 30,000 yen for, anyways? That's like, hm almost 200 pounds…" he carried on. "But I brought it to him, and that was that."

Sebastian looked at the boy, lowered his eyes, and waited. "I see." He made a mental list of the people Ciel had talked to in the past few days, and immediately pinpointed which friend Ciel could be talking about. "I suppose Redmond needed a new outfit? I doubt someone of his standing would need it for…less pure reasons."

Ciel nodded distractedly before shooting a look at Sebastian. "I never said—"

"No," Sebastian's mirth left him in a quiet hum of laughter. "You didn't."

Ciel sniffed. "If that's everything, Professor Michaelis?" he declared.

_Ah,_ Sebastian's eyes flitted to Ciel's tense shoulders. _He's realized the danger of conversing with me…_

"Thank you for your assistance, Phantomhive." He smiled. "I will have dinner prepared by six p.m. We can't have you eating too late…" The boy stiffened. "Or you won't be able to sleep."

"I…" Ciel began.

"I will see you…yes, here would do. Or if you prefer, there is a park nearby. We could make a picnic of it."

Ciel, at mention of this, reddened visibly. "No, no thank you…I think I have time to catch the cafeteria. You can…return the favor at another time," he said faintly.

And with that, he left, leaving Sebastian alone once more.

* * *

o0o0o0o0o0o

tbc...

Footnotes: (*1)Garbage is sorted in Japan. Unfortunately, the sorting system is different in every city. But basically, it's sorted into burnable, nonburnable, glass, PET bottles (it is a plastic bottle labeled "no.1" in many countries), aluminum cans, steel cans etc.)  
The book in kana: よくわかる初心者の為のパソコン入門

So! Sebastian has showed his less-than-perfect side. And watch Ciel open up to him...things are going smoothly.

I've heard some really amusing other Sebastian! vs.! technology! ideas from you guys. any more good ones?


	9. His Would-Be-Master, cornered

_His master, cornered._

* * *

"There's something important I need to tell you," Edgar Redmond had said. He leaned casually against the door frame, cool and confident as always.

Ciel had only nodded.

"Good." Redmond smiled, seeming pleased by this. "I'll see you after class, then?"

Ciel put the entire thing out of his mind until much later. It was, after all, a common occurrence. Ciel helped his upperclassmen in a variety of clever ways…from running small errands to following up on the information network Redmond thought he was in charge of.

"Redmond?" Ciel called out. They'd agreed to meet behind the computer lab, sheltered by the out-of-doors hallway connecting this addition to the main classroom buildings. It was quiet, and not nearly as looked-in-upon as the school grounds, tennis courts or such.

Redmond coughed briefly. He wasn't burdened by school bags or books, but stood at ease. "Hello Ciel." A smile played at his lips.

Ciel's eyes softened vaguely in return. "I thought we'd meet in one of the dorm common rooms," he admitted slowly. "Is there something you needed…?"

Redmond's expression was curiously blank for a moment. He surveyed Ciel severely. "I thought, surely, that you would realize by now," he murmured.

Ciel paused. "Sorry, what?" He was a bit unsettled by Redmond's words.

It wasn't as though they never argued…but Redmond never seemed to allow anything to get past his regard for the proper, beautiful society he wished to live in. But Redmond was detached, disregarding the friendly demeanor he customarily adopted with his classmates.

"Ah," Ciel breathed, "is it about dinner yesterday? I thought I told you. I was helping Professor Micha—"

"It isn't that." Redmond closed the distance between them with a few long steps. He looked down upon Ciel, his expression unreadable. Gently, he brushed Ciel's hair away, straightened his collar, and untied the knot of his tie.

Ciel smiled faintly, amused at his senior's methodological readjustment of his school uniform. "Thank you." He paused, trying to think of what could possibly be bothering Redmond so.

"Have you forgotten already?" Redmond bent slightly, and his fair hair brushed against Ciel's cheek. As it was impossible to read Redmond at that proximity, he nearly missed the dull, uninspired tone. "I thought better of you, Phantomhive. I can no longer overlook these games you've been playing. Did you think I wouldn't notice, that I wouldn't have my own sources of information?" Redmond scoffed, and tossed his hair back.

Ciel stared, utterly surprised. He had thought, in the back of his mind, that no one would guess his game. No one would be able to see what he was doing with student information. For Redmond to guess the alliances he made or the gambles he managed, astonished him.

"Sources tell me that you dropped _my_ name to a certain teacher. I over estimated you, Ciel. I didn't think you'd be such a brown noser." Scorn mixed with Redmond's approximation of disappointment.

Ciel was indignant. "I did not," he declared. Then he stopped. He might have said something in reference to Redmond. But surely that wasn't the same thing. "I would never tell a teacher something to incriminate you. But you haven't done anything to be worried about, though, have you?"

"You said enough for a teacher to suspect me of something distasteful. Me! After all I've done for you." Redmond grabbed the younger boy's shoulders, squeezing a touch too tight.

Ciel flinched away. He was starting to back away, when Redmond looked at him with a cold smile. His fingers bit into his shoulders through the uniform, and he pushed Ciel roughly against the wall. To anyone passing, it would look like they were talking. But there was surprising strength there, and Ciel felt panic mounting in his chest.

"You disappoint me, Ciel. I can't let you wriggle out of this unpunished." Redmond toyed with Ciel's hair, and lightly put his hand on the back Ciel's thigh. "Do you remember all the times we've spent together? You've shared my heart, but I too have tasted yours..." He smiled softly then. "I know what would shake you up. I know what you're afraid of."

Ciel shook under that gaze, but he managed to disguise it with the tilt of his chin and a small scowl.

"Do you now?" he frowned. "That isn't something you say to a friend, Redmond. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, but..."

Redmond shook his head. "You would have been better at my side, Ciel. Better to stand by me, don't you think?" He paused. "After all, I know how some people look at you."

Ciel froze. "What?"

Redmond's smile was disconnected from the pleasant passions that so frequently took him. He was no longer concerned with the appropriateness of the act. "I can find some...willing people...to punish you." And at last, he withdrew. He gave a tiny little bow. "Watch your step, little Phantomhive."

And then he withdrew completely, leaving a cold, sinking dread in Ciel's stomach. This could only be the beginning of Redmond's move against him. Ciel wondered how far his standing would drop, how much his peers would suspect him of.

Ciel's breath came difficultly, stress and anxiety aggravating his asthma. He'd leave now, before any passing student got the nerve to ask him what that conversation was about.

It was time to make a counter plan. Ciel wouldn't play _victim_ for anyone.

* * *

Ciel had never felt so alone in his life. Classmates and students he thought were—well, not quite friends, but informants at the very least—were ignoring him. Redmond had influence, all right. Ciel had only ever been on the fringe of any circle.

McMillan and his yearmates spoke to him some, but their curiosity at the sudden number of notes shoved into his shoe locker (*1) and the discrete stares from upperclassmen kept Ciel from talking to them either.

Talking with Redmond had been awful. He implied that Ciel couldn't keep a secret, and that he was a gossip and a sneak. Worse he made it out like he was a child trying to impress his father and his teacher with degrading stories about his peers.

Ciel clenched his fist and hid behind his notes during classes. He skipped lunch in the cafeteria in favor of staking out in the library. On his way there, Sebastian stopped him.

"Mr. Phantomhive, if I could have a word?"

Ciel skittered out of the way. "I'm busy right now, Professor," he said curtly. _Like hell I'm going to give them more to gossip about by talking to Sebastian._

The teacher made a move to catch Ciel's arm, but the boy evaded that easily and half ran to the library.

_45 minutes to kill..._Ciel thought about browsing the shelves, but disregarded this in favor of sitting at a table farther out of sight. His cellphone was in his hand without really thinking about it. Fleeting thoughts of showing Sebastian how to use it came to mind. Ciel scowled and decided to use a computer after all. No one but the computer club members would be there, after all. And they hardly ever spoke to anyone.

He'd find someone to talk to...He wasn't completely alone. _Maybe some friends from England will be online._ Ciel resolutely typed something into the web browser.

* * *

oOoOoOo

(Sebastian)

I watched the child from close behind him, taking care to hide my presence from even him. Quickly, I copied the web address into my school-issued laptop.

Ciel found the chat room by accident, I thought. He was checking the browser history, like he was trying to see what the previous user had been looking at. Probably it was a frustrated attempt to have a hold over someone. I can relate- there's nothing quite like having power over someone to make you feel a little better.

But his hand paused over the history. He accessed the page and actually created an account. I'm mere seconds behind him, except that I also modify my User information to make it look like I joined months ago and have multiple "friends."

Ciel typed into the group chat.

Ah, I was correct in assuming he wanted to talk after all. He's found a forum and started watching someone's conversation. The best he could hope for was a similar situation, but I can do better than that. I peered at the screen in contemplation. Now...what card ought I play?

Was he looking for comfort and sympathy? No, of course not. Someone to vent to, perhaps...or maybe some advice, if he thought the other party to be capable of giving anything intelligent enough to consider.

The teens (if that really was what they were) that frequented such sites were not always helpful. I recalled warnings from my school-issued internet guidelines that hinted of that predators often could inducing get personal information from our young, naive students and that we were to strictly suggest students refrain from  
such activities.

Which gave me an idea. Ciel might have been unwilling to confide in me in person, but he may yet open up to "Demandols."

oOoOoOo

* * *

Footnotes:  
(*1) Shoe Lockers. As you (may) know, you have to take off your shoes when you go into a Japanese house, and even some buildings. Schools are one of these places. So, there is a small locker that's whole purpose is to keep your coming-to-school-shoes in while you wear your indoor-sandals (sigh. I hate these.) Once a year, somebody's shoes (usually the "going home" shoes) goes missing. O.O It's a ghost! (Actually, teachers tell students that they suspect another student  
mixed up the shoes and wore someone else's shoes home...) As implied in this chapter, notes may be left in the shoe locker.

(*2) Sebastian's screen name. I dare you to find out what it's referring to. (gooogle?)


	10. His Would-Be-Master, stringing a web

**Thank you** for all favorites, follows, and reviews. :D PhloxPopuli, HiddenOtaku24, Murder-of-the-Night, animelovernewbie, Disgruntled Minion, Narutopokefan, promocat, Paxloria, KuroshitsujiForever, whatever99, Carrie2sky, SisterOfScarletDevil, and Yana5.

Thank you Carrie for the beta! (Note: the texting has been beta-d now.)

**Warnings:** Texting-in-the-story. It's only half of this chapter. Those of you who who find yourself thinking, "get on with the plot!" may be happier skipping to the next half of this chapter. Those of you who like lots of detail and foreshadowing, stick around.

**A/N**: Is the Line app (usually just called Line) popular anywhere but in Japan? It's basically like an IM from phone-to-phone, bypassing cell-numbers etc. I imagine Ciel has a Line account for private stuff, and another for public "classroom" stuff.

* * *

**Chapter 10:** His Would-Be Master, stringing a web.

o0o0o0o0o

Ciel texted briskly on his phone between classes, more eager to talk to his new acquaintance using Line (*1) than trying to talk with his somewhat estranged peers.

**BitterRabbit:** so, what are your hobbies?  
**Demandols: ** Computers, I suppose. But only recently.  
**BitterRabbit: ** oh? how do you mean?  
**Demandols: ** I'm using the internet to explore the computer's functions. It's...a hobby.  
**BitterRabbit:** so what's your purpose?  
**Demandols:** I'm looking into many things.  
But, right now I'm looking at servers.  
**BitterRabbit:** Why?  
**Demandols:** I wondered if I could access my school server from home.

Ciel leaned backwards in his seat, contemplating the other's words  
**BitterRabbit:** Like a hacker?

Ciel waited impatiently for the reply. It took a few seconds longer than usual...

**Deamandols:** No, not a hacker. I'm just using my phone.  
. . . I don't want to destroy anything.

Ciel decided to reserve judgment and continued texting on Line.

**BitterRabbit:**But it would be theoretically possible to hack the school system remotely.

Ciel thought to himself, _But why would anyone want to?_ Instead, he typed,

. . .But not from a phone…  
**Deamandols:** Why can't I access it from my phone?  
**BitterRabbit:**It's protected through wireless security.  
**Deamandols:** In what way?  
**BitterRabbit:** Well, you have to know not only the passwords, but the addresses also. If you don't know or can't guess those...you can't get in.  
**Deamandols:**Interesting.  
. . .And how about you? What are your hobbies?  
. . .Do you find world domination sound interesting?  
**BitterRabbit:** lol...  
. . .No more than any other kid my age.  
. . .I'd be happy to get through high school atm...  
**Demandols:** look at this picture.

Ciel opened the .gif only to be assaulted by a video of a small, fluffy cat climbing a curtain. He rolled his eyes.

**BitterRabbit:** uh-huh. Nice cat.  
**Demandols:** isn't she darling?  
**BitterRabbit:** Is she your only family or something?  
**Demandols:** if she would deign call herself that, I would be most pleased.

Ciel snorted How could the icat/i decide?

**BitterRabbit:** you don't have family in Japan then?  
**Demandols:** I don't. And you?  
**BitterRabbit:** boarding school. My dad enrolled me after my mom died...

Ciel looked at the light green bubble of text and fidgeted uncomfortably. He wasn't accustomed to telling people about his family, and that admission especially cut close.

**Demandols:** My condolences.

Ciel pursed his lips. He racked his brains for a way to lighten the conversation.

**BitterRabbit:** you sound so formal…  
**Demandols:** Would you prefer if I wrote, "is ur dad horrid 2 u?"  
**BitterRabbit:** uh, no, thanks.  
. . .he's...  
. . .not that bad  
. . .sometimes he can be demanding  
. . .and I think he thinks I like everything he likes and hate everything he dislikes  
. . .But he thinks I'm a little kid  
. . .he doesn't realize I'm a teenager.  
**Demandols:** maybe you should show him that.  
**BitterRabbit:** How?  
**Demandols:** well...

Ciel leaned in unconsciously closer, peering at the screen intently. He was so enwrapped in the conversation that he nearly missed the teacher coming close. He barely managed to hide it from view, and smiled faintly when the teacher tapped his textbook and gestured for Ciel to read aloud.

Ciel knew that whatever Sebastian proposed would be in neat lines of text whenever Ciel glanced back, Ciel assured himself, and participated in class. Reluctantly.

"Yes, sir." He stood up, hastily dropping his cellphone into place. He read aloud and glanced sullenly at the teacher, who smiled tightly.

When he looked back at his phone, he sighed with relief.

Demandols had produced some interesting advice. However, Ciel wasn't sure how his dad would react. But it seemed Demandols was quick on his feet, so Ciel was tempted to ask the other's opinion about this new situation with Redmond.

**BitterRabbit:** actually, there's this classmate of mine...there's a misunderstanding.

He texted tentatively. Then he erased it. That was far too transparent. He'd come up with something better.

Demandols might offer the perfect solution as a third party. Some of Ciel's anxiety faded, as he concentrated on composing his message.

* * *

o0o0o0o0o

"Ciel."

Redmond's call came when the boy least expected it. He thought it would start immediately after class, with the least amount of intrusions as possible, but instead he'd been left alone after short homeroom. It wasn't until Professor Michaelis had left them to their cleaning duties that he'd been headed off.

Before, there had been two upperclassmen loitering around near his dorm room whenever he tried to sneak back. Whenever he tried to go anywhere private, there was always someone in the way. So he had no place to seek refuge except the café. The school library closed at five, after all.

Undertaker smiled slowly. "Ciel Phantomhive…your friend is calling you." He laughed quietly, and pointed at his blond classmate. "I don't think he's so patient today…"

As if to confirm that statement, Redmond brushed a strand of hair out of his face. "Ciel, a word if you don't mind?"

Ciel swallowed. He thought about the plan he and Desmandol had constructed, and his heart began to race. He wasn't entirely certain, no—he wasn't a fool. But it was a plan he could count on _for the most part,_ especially when Redmond wasn't about to let him avoid the issue altogether.

He looked Redmond in the eye and offered a tentative smile. "Of course, Redmond. Would you like to discuss it over tea…?" he asked hopefully.

Redmond shook his head. "No, it's about what we were talking about a few days ago. The situation has changed, and I'm afraid it can't…resolve until you've seen the exact circumstances, we can't really afford to let things be." His words were just as aristocratic as ever, and his elegant speech pattern was only slightly off.

Under those pretty phrases, Redmond's gaze was cold. He smiled only when Ciel looked away. It was as though he took pleasure in Ciel's discomfort.

"Shall we go to my room or yours, then?" The older boy led him away by the elbow.

"I see your two thugs have given up on stalking my hallway," Ciel said sourly.

"Thugs?" Redmond's lip curled. "Hardly."

"I don't want to go anywhere alone with you like this. Redmond, this is a big misunderstanding—" Ciel kept his tone pleading, showing just a hint of fear. Enough to make Redmond think he still had the upper hand. Enough to practically give permission to a hesitant predator.

_It has to be like this. He has to see me as weak. It won't get far…Redmond actually believes all that rot about honor of his family's name._ Ciel's thoughts were jumbled, almost fuzzy as though he had a fever.

"Well, I don't want to air my laundry where anyone can see it. It has to be private. But I think your dorm isn't the right place after all…" He fixed a shrewd eye on Ciel. "Who knows, the rumors about you having illegal weapons in there might be true."

Ciel swallowed hard, and made a show of putting on a brave face. But he let his anxiety show just enough to make Redmond sloppy.

Sure enough, Redmond chose the study room on Ciel's floor. Ciel would have sagged with relief, had the two thugs not been holding onto his arms. "I don't want to be alone with you—" Ciel insisted, widening his eyes wider still.

"Just for a few minutes, Ciel darling." Redmond closed the doors and smiled ruthlessly. His eyes practically glittered. "When all this is said and done, I'm certain you can rejoin our circle."

_As if I'd want to,_ Ciel thought scathingly. His lips had pursed unbidden, and he had to work to smooth his face.

"I warned you," Redmond whispered softly. "You should have recanted."

"And said what?" Ciel bit out. He shook free of one of the older boys and half-turned to face Redmond. "I didn't say anything to begin with!"

"Lies!" Redmond seethed. "You must have said something. No one could make an assumption that _potent_ with just a veiled hint, like you seem to think you gave." He stalked around the study, his hands clenched and his pretty face stiff with discomfort.

He looked sad for a moment. "I may have ears in the wall, but even a master can't catch every word. That little girl…just didn't hear the part where you talked to _a teacher_ about something as scandalous as my _love life._"

Ciel guffawed. He couldn't help it. _Redmond thinks this is about his…romantic endeavors?_ He almost collapsed with relief.

But Redmond didn't share his views. He did, after all, like to be seen as a free agent—never tied down to any one admirer. And whatever he thought Ciel said had done something to jeopardize that. Yes. Things were starting to make sense. "Is something funny, _Smile?_"

"I didn't say anything about your love life." Ciel lifted his chin. "I don't _know_ anything about your private affairs, Redmond. I don't know where this rumor started, but it wasn't with me." He wasn't smiling. His face was pale, his lips set. He wanted Redmond to back off, after all.

But he'd let this much of the conversation be overheard by the other boys. He'd let half the student body see them together after Redmond's brutal isolation. Redmond couldn't afford to back off now without proof of Ciel's innocence…

Ciel suddenly wondered if his 'informant' hadn't embellished what they heard to make for a juicier story. Redmond certainly had the wrong idea.

"Trust in me, Redmond. Have I ever let you down before?" Ciel murmured softly. He raised one hand as though to reach for him.

Redmond faltered. He'd spent years cultivating a magnanimous reputation as a senior who favored tidy appearances as much as intellect. He was posh, trustworthy, and decidedly a 'safe' option for girls to consider.

He might be well known for being unattached, but Redmond didn't have a playboy reputation. He'd be damned if he got one right before he left for university, and then employment and marriage. Ciel Phantomhive would _pay._ And then he'd make things right. A gentleman had to uphold his honor, after all.

"Ciel." Redmond sighed. "You disappointed me." He turned away. "But we will have you back, nonetheless. We can make amends. Start here, with these two…show them how sorry you are. And we'll have the school back on our side in no time."

_Does he honestly believe that?_ Ciel wondered. He swallowed hard.

One of the boys came forward, a lecherous look on his face.

_Overeager,_ Ciel thought, _to carry out this punishment._

The other was hesitant and kept looking to Redmond for permission to continue. No, it was the first one that posed a threat. Four hands were on him in but a moment, rough and briskly pulling at his clothes.

Touching him.

He shied away, closing his eyes tight even as he tried to pull free.

Would it work?

Buttons came undone. The shy one was getting out a small container of paint and a brush. His face was ghastly white.

"Redmond—" Ciel breathed. "Please—" he couldn't help it. He really sounded panicked then.

_What if they—_

The other one had him firmly by the pants. A hand loosened his belt.

Ciel bucked away, but he was held fast. He was shoved against the wall, putting his hands out in front of him to keep from colliding headfirst with the plaster. His hands were trapped beneath his own weight as two rough hands held him down by the shoulders.

The last two buttons tore out from under his belt, and he was wearing only a t-shirt and the school-issued trousers. Something faintly cool and scratchy was against his back. He struggled under the older boys, but he couldn't get away.

_What are they writing?_ Some inane part of him wanted to know. Frightened as he was, he almost giggled at his own curiosity. Terror licked at the edge of his thoughts, his feelings. He froze up, and his hands and feet felt numb. His whole mind was in a haze.

He was facing the other way now. The boys could see his face, and he theirs. Now the hands were pulling at his belt and shoving his pants down while Redmond slowly extended a razor knife.

His smile was soft, gentle. "It'll be all right, Ciel," he murmured.

Lips against his neck, sucking too hard. The teeth grazed his skin.

Redmond took the knife to Ciel's shirt. The fabric ripped.

One hand against his back now. And the other moved down, slowly.

_It won't work. It's in my pocket. How can I do it, when the remote is in my pocket?_

But it worked anyway. A half dozen lights flashed—and an ominous electric red light glowed eerily from the opposite side of the room, hidden among the potted greenery. Studio lights glowed again before going off a second time. This time catching four faces turned up in confused alarm.

Ciel Phantomhive smiled.

His seniors dropped everything and ran, their composure suddenly cracking at the thought of a counterattack. Even Redmond. Ciel had thought, dazedly, that he might have stayed behind. Tried to destroy the equipment or negotiate with Ciel. But he didn't. He just…ran.

_Thank god for Demandols._ _I couldn't have thought of all that and got it done by myself._ He began to laugh slowly. Tears of relief started to brim in his eyes, but he brushed them away fiercely.

The door opened. Ciel froze. He hadn't even gotten his shirt—

"Quite proficient, Mr. Phantomhive. Expertly carried out. I trust you've come to no harm?" The voice was a soft as Redmond's had been, but filled with a different kind of emotion. Satisfaction, maybe.

Ciel sputtered, whipping around. He was utterly at a lack of words.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance in person, BitterRabbit." Sebastian gave a mocking smile. "Demandols at your service."

Ciel sank to the floor, uncertain all over again, who his allies and who his enemies were.

* * *

o0o0o0o0o

tbc...

A/N: Thoughts?

(*Fidgets*) I hope it doesn't disappoint. (*Sheepish*)

(*1) Line: a global online messaging service access (primarily) via cell phone or smart phone. You can make groups to contact many people at once, or you can have one on one conversation. It's an app which started in Japan after the 2011 earthquake after people couldn't contact each other because the phone lines were jammed.


	11. Aftermath

(**Warnings**: some emotional upheaval.)

**A/N: **Demandols, in case you haven't looked it up yet, is one spelling of the family name of a young woman in history who claimed to be possessed by Beelzebub. The inquisitor who came to be in charge of her case was, as you might have guessed, Sebastian Michaelis...

**Beta-ed** by Carrie. Thank you!

**Thank you**, as always, for the lovely reviews. And favorites, and watches. I try and* slowly…) reply to comments, so just leave a review if you have a question or want to have a conversation. Thanks to you guys, we have reached the 100-review line. So quickly, too! Hugs to you all.

* * *

o0o0o0o0o0o

Chapter 11: Aftermath

"Demandols was _you?"_ Ciel felt his breathe leave him in a rush, and he was dizzier than ever. He could barely keep his gaze trained on Sebastian.

That concerned look did not waver, though Ciel was certain Sebastian must have been feeling smug indeed. Outwardly, Sebastian showed anxiety—an emotion Ciel was nearly certain the teacher did not feel. "Mister Phantomhive, I still think it's best to report this incident. Are you quite all right? Nothing...intimate happened?"

Ciel shook his head, mute.

_He saw. He came in. I can't believe he saw me like this…_ Ciel's thoughts collided. _If he saw, why is he asking that question? He's making a calculated move, saying just what he thinks I want to hear to win my trust. It's. not. real._ He began to shiver, and he pulled his arm away.

"I see. I'll step out for a moment and get you a spare school jacket." Sebastian's voice was calm, soothing. His gaze did not waver, and he stood easily. "Calm yourself. No one will enter while I am away."

Ciel closed his eyes. He couldn't stop his hands and limbs from shaking. He hadn't realized what kind of danger Redmond would put him in, and then this sudden _betrayal_ by Sebastian? The more logical part of him insisted that it was not quite betrayal…not when Sebastian had helped him. He just acted under the pretense of being a concerned stranger, rather than a teacher.

Ciel was no more composed when Sebastian draped the white shirt over his shoulders. The jacket he handed to Ciel, and then he turned away, busying himself with other small chores. "Where did you get these?" Ciel asked numbly.

"There's a supply for such occasions here at the school." At Ciel's disbelieving glare, he added, "When middle school students graduate, if they don't want their uniform, they donate it back to the school— for foreign exchange students, or if there are…accidents… with a student's uniform before a replacement can be bought."

"Oh." That almost sounded logical. "So you didn't sneak into my room?" Ciel bit his lip, surprised at his own accusation. Where had that come from?

Sebastian gave him a long, steady look. He opened his mouth as if to ask something, but then thought better of it.

"No, Mister Phantomhive. I did not." His voice was quiet. "I took the liberty to bring some lavender and chamomile tea. There are only paper cups here, but I think it best you stay away from the cafe, or your room for a bit. Rumors can be vicious." He raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

Sebastian was up, stealthily taking film from the cameras, checking both photograph and video. He was silent as he handed the items of importance to Ciel. "These are yours."

Ciel stood up shakily, moving much slower than he had when the older boys had threatened him. He was drained of energy, and his whole body felt like lead. Except for where the marker had touched his skin. That felt…like fire and ice, etched too deep…

"Where did you get these?" Ciel asked numbly.

He dressed mechanically, considering the pile of things. Ciel held out his hands, trembling at first, but then stiff and motionless as he set his jaw.

All of this unasked for evidence was certainly thorough, if baffling. As far as proof went, it would do. Really, the Polaroid alone would do. The old fashioned film, on the other hand might be a problem. Where could he get it developed without questions being asked? The video recording was a surprise, as well. Ciel had only set up the digital camera, it being the only equipment he had a working remote for.

"How did you get this?" Ciel demanded quietly. Unconsciously, he mirrored his father; he stood up straight, his shoulders back, and he tilted his chin just so.

Sebastian smiled. "Demandols told you he'd offer any assistance he could…I told you. It was not so difficult to procure these things. Far less trouble than finding some of the history lesson props…

I set them up here...and in the bathroom. I wasn't sure which room they would use."

Ciel looked up, his eyes sharp. That last part sounded…off. Calculated, or perhaps fictitious. But why would anyone intentionally make it out like they didn't know something? "You set them up here? But I didn't notice them when I came in…they're hidden and everything, but there's four pieces of equipment here that all four of us missed. How could anyone—"

"Mr. Phantomhive, you're being hysterical. Do you prefer lavender and chamomile tea?" Sebastian put a steadying hand on Ciel's shoulder.

Ciel took several deep breaths. "This doesn't mean anything," he said at last. "I don't _owe_ you anything." He glared.

Sebastian handed him two cups with a bemused smile. "If you shall not choose, than perhaps you are in need of both…"

"I'm not a child!" Ciel burst out.

"I never said you were. And I don't expect to be repaid for doing my duty. What did you expect a teacher to do, hmm? Wait and see if the little children work things out?" Sebastian's voice held just a hint of mocking amusement.

Ciel gave a great sigh of frustration and sipped his tea. His cheeks felt warm, and there was a prickly feeling in his throat. He _didn't_ want to cry, so he'd best calm down and drink his tea.

After some minutes, he said, "That's what most teachers do. Let us solve our own problems, unless it's in the classroom."

"Oh come now, that's not entirely true. Student Discipline is fairly strict in this country…and there's to be meetings with all of the parents soon. You all are hardly left to the wolves."

Ciel closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Sebastian was looking at him coolly. He sipped again—_lavender,_ he thought vaguely—and considered what to say.

"I was the victim here," he said slowly, hating the words that bit at his tongue. "So I get to decide their punishment." He raised his gaze slowly.

Sebastian's eyes were lowered. His dark hair disguised most of his face. "Oh? And what do you propose?"

"Nothing," Ciel said boldly.

Sebastian considered the boy. "As you wish." The smile was gone, and then Sebastian was regarding him coldly. "But it is not what I would have expected of you."

Ciel frowned. "You don't know me, then."

"I know you desire power above all things," Sebastian countered. "And I could be that for you, Ciel Phantomhive…" he looked into Ciel's eyes and did not falter. "With me as your dagger, I could see to it that you're never hurt again..."

Ciel's eyes flashed. "Stop it."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and continued. "Don't you realize? I could punish anyone who dares lift a hand against you."

"Don't!" Ciel warned.

Sebastian paused, his smile calculated and calm. Instead of yielding, he pressed the advantage; coolly issuing logical suggestions that Ciel didn't want to hear. "You have your evidence, if you change your mind. Don't dispose of those clothes, either. And we should take a photo of your back..."

Ciel shied away. Heat rushed to his face, and his stomach seemed to fall to his feet. The dizziness returned, and with it, some achy panic. "Don't _touch_ me—" he hissed.

"I won't. I trust you can remove your shirt without help. I will simply take the photos." Sebastian's tone was light and calm.

His heart hammered in his throat. All the same, he knew what Sebastian said was logical. "I…" he shook his head furiously, and in his frustration, felt tears brimming in his eyes. Angrily, he wiped them away with the back of his hand.

He took several more deep breaths, and then held them. Slowly, as the dizziness began to blacken his sight, he nodded. "All right."

Sebastian nodded gravely. They sat in silence while Ciel sipped his tea.

"I think we can take the photo in your room by now. You can relax afterwards, and there's no chance anyone will interrupt," Sebastian announced, and stood up. "I'll bring you a light meal, afterwards Mr. Phantomhive."

Ciel nodded dully. He stood up, and when he wavered on his feet, Sebastian took his arm and steadied him. The short walk was a blur.

Sebastian nodded and did as asked. "Very well, little lord…" his lips pulled upward in a mockery of a smile. "What would you like for dinner?"

"Just go," Ciel snarled.

Sebastian cocked his head. "Something light then for an uneasy stomach." He turned and walked away.

Ciel flopped onto his bed for a half hour. Finally, there was a knock on his door.

When he opened it, no one was there. Instead, he found a silver tray. He lifted the lid. "Huh." Ciel took the food inside, and closed the door. So Sebastian could cook... Unbidden, he looked up at the window. For some reason, that spot pulled at his memory. But he had no special reason to think _why_ that should be so. So his gaze drifted back to the silver tray, and he considered his options.

Seeing that Redmond wouldn't be his partner in information gathering considering what had transpired between them, Ciel probably ought take whatever help he could get.

If he could use Sebastian instead of the other way around…but no. That was dangerous. An adult had more connections and more strength than he himself. Ciel decided to keep an eye on the teacher, and see what cards he revealed. If he just waited, Sebastian would hand him the information.

He would do that. Watch and wait until Sebastian made a fatal move.

* * *

o0o0o0o0o

tbc...

So! Sebastian and Ciel a nice long, private chat. Thoughts?


	12. That Butler, Conferencing

**Summary:** It's parent-teacher conferences in Ciel's school, and wouldn't you guess that the resident demon would manipulate things so that Sebastian has the chance to get informashun! meet Ciel's dad.

* * *

(Sebastian)

The following days were filled with Ciel's quiet footsteps leading to and from his classroom, seeking out quiet students who saw things. He asked around, in vain, but few people seemed to realize what he was doing. I had to give the boy that: he could be subtle.

Ciel was trying to uncover who sold him out to Redmond. If only he thought to ask me, the silly child. But now was not the time to ponder the boy's actions or my next step. I must fulfill my duties—or rather, Mr. Nakamura's duties— as a homeroom teacher and participate in the parent-teacher conferences.

Or rather, the parent-child and teacher conferences, as is customary in Japan. I can't keep the satisfied smile from my features.

'Subtle insult' is a fine art. It was all too easy to play on Mr. Nakamura's insecurities to ensure the Phantomhives and I were to be quite alone for this little meeting. I allowed myself a smile.

Voices sounded outside my door coming from the end of the corridor, if I didn't miss my guess. Mr. Phantomhive and Ciel were talking. Vincent was sure of himself with his slightly condescending, authoritative way, and Ciel countered that with a surprisingly sweet tone, considering his true nature.

"You're not nervous, are you?" Vincent asked.

"No, father." A brief, calculated pause and then Ciel added, "Do you think it will take very long?"

It was a not-so-subtle-attempt at seeming young and innocent, but Vincent certainly bought it.

"No, not long at all, I'm sure." Vincent knocked at the door.

I stood up from my seat. "Thank you for coming, Mister Phantomhive." I smiled at him, bowing at the waist.

"Yes, of course…"

When they came to their seats, I sat too. It showed real restraint that I managed to keep from looming over them, exhorting demonic influence from every corner…

Vincent Phantomhive looked distracted, glancing at all parts of the room before his gaze finally landed on me.

"You're not Mister Nakamura," he mused and leaned in to tousle Ciel's hair. "Got a new homeroom teacher, have you?" His expression and tone suggested teasing, but something in his pause recollected a warning. This father expected to know things. To have control, maybe?

Well. Perhaps the boy would like to be removed from his father's chessboard…learn to play for himself, with me as his best piece.

"Sebastian Michaelis." I performed another seated bow. "Recently I've come to teach world culture and history…" I trailed off and looked at the boy.

Ciel smiled thinly. "He just started after another teacher—s"

"Mister Clark," Vincent mumbled his interruption from behind two fingers. Apparently he'd memorized the course list and corresponding teachers.

"Shall we begin?" I asked softly. I rather noticed Ciel's irritation at the tangent in conversation.

Vincent's gaze wandered back to me. He'd been studying the leaflet of papers on his son, stacked and ready for filing. "Yes. Of course."

"I'm certain you're aware of our school's system. The third year junior-high students will test into our high school at the end of third term. Providing your marks are high enough, I presume you are planning to continue your education?"

Vincent straightened. He nodded. "I…yes, we've decided to stay where we are."

I looked at Ciel.

He blinked, surprised for some reason. "Er," he said. "Yes. _Yes,_ I want to continue."

Vincent's eyes flickered from one of us to the next. "So…if there are no problems, perhaps you could discuss Ciel's current position and—"

I only smiled, but Vincent stopped talking to look at me closely. "What course are you interested in for your high school level curriculum? Humanities or maths and sciences?"

Ciel snuck a glance at his father. "Humanities…" For the record, he also looked rather startled that we had no disciplinary actions to discuss. "I was thinking of the Special Course, actually. With my core classes in English."

Vincent frowned. "Didn't you tell me that you were 'quite fluent' these days? What classes will you be taking in Japanese?"

Ciel fidgeted. "…we don't pick our schedule until next year _after_ we get our marks back. And I haven't got any bad marks this term." Ciel spoke in a quick, earnest voice. He seemed content to let his father think of him as a sweet, innocent child…when it suited him.

I nodded and politely pushed a bleached sheaf of papers. It was a complete summary of Ciel's standing in each subject. The very brilliance of the paper surprised me, but there's a nice contrast there with a fountain pen and copperplate lettering.

"…that's…" Ciel looked amused. "My report card? Most people just print it, you know."

Vincent looked as though he was thinking the same thing. "…good to see your average hasn't slipped."

I folded my arms. "Have you anything else to suggest to your son?"

Vincent smiled faintly. "No, he can take his time deciding. He's a shy boy, you know…just give him time. He'll decide on his own schedule."

"Ah."

"There's no need to rush." Vincent seemed keen on defending himself and his son's position of laziness.

"You're not trying to get me to choose a university now, are you?" Ciel demanded.

"If you're not keen to discuss that, I suppose we could move on to your family life." I smiled faintly.

Ciel blanched, throwing a look at me and then his father. A charming boy. "What."

"I'm sorry," Vincent's eyes were dangerous. Hmm. He thought to threaten me? "But really, Ciel is emotionally fine. We talk on weekends, don't we? Is there any particular question you had in mind?"

"How are you feeling without a mother figure, Ciel?" I enjoyed the look of surprise Ciel cast me, and the annoyance Vincent displayed.

"That was a long time ago," Ciel muttered. "We're fine now. I have my aunt, my dad…I miss her, but…we'll be fine."

Vincent put one hand on his son's knee, as though to guard him from me. "If you're concerned about his staying here over winter break, it's to help him study for the exams," Vincent said evenly. "We agreed to have a proper family vacation come spring holiday."

"Of course." I smirked. Defensive, definitely.

"Now, Mr. Phantomhive, we do not have any disciplinary actions to discuss at this time…Should such an occasion arise, you will be informed at that time. Thenceforth, the teachers will discuss whether or not it is to be placed on his permanent file. But have no fears, Mister Phantomhive." I looked at him from under my lashes.

"You said…" Ciel scowled and bit his lip, cutting off whatever he was to say.  
"I think Ciel can stay out of trouble." If he does what I want him to do, that is.

Vincent nodded curtly. "Yes, I understand. I am sure Ciel will do his best."

Ciel nodded and stood up. He looked vaguely frightened for some reason. But I suppose it's the thought of a demon punishing him. Or maybe the thought of 'father dear' finding out about his recent assault...Ciel did not like appearing weak.

I smirked.

"Have a good evening, Mister Phantomhive."

And they stepped outside. Ciel sounded most agitated as he bid his father goodnight. It seemed they promised to talk in private afterward…alas, I could not go spy on them just yet…The last thing I needed was for Ciel to have reason to tell his father he thought I'm spying on him. He's rather...sensitive about the whole Redmond confrontation.

No, best to not provide him with an opportunity to even mention me. Instead, I will impress the child in private. Convince him of my expertise.

All that's left to do, then, is to bring him out of his comfortable web...and show him what a demon can do.

oOoOoOo

* * *

tbc…

**Cultural notes...**

*Parent-teacher conferences. As Sebastian noted, it's "parent and child and teacher conference." (The Japanese is actually 3 person conference, 三者面談 / sanshamendan.) Teachers conference with 8 or more parents (from their homeroom class) a day for a week. The students have a week of half days (morning lessons), but the teachers are very busy.


	13. His Butler, exploring

**Thank you** for all the reviews, favorites, watches and kind words. Thank you Carrie for the beta.

I'm replying slowly to comments. XD I am busy from now until July 17th or so when school is (finally!) out, but please know that I love your comments. They make the silly end of term bearable.

* * *

**Chapter 13**  
_His Butler, exploring._

"Good evening, Phantomhive. If you're trying to avoid Redmond, you might want to stay away from the hallway. I'm afraid you're rather obvious loitering here." Sebastian kept his voice quiet, but Ciel still nearly jumped. He looked up suspiciously at Sebastian, as though expecting him to do something tactless.

"I'm going to have dinner," he said stiffly.

"No, you weren't," Sebastian corrected with a prim gaze. "You saw who was there, and were about to turn away. But growing boys need their nourishment...

"How about a nice cup of hot cocoa in the study room?" Sebastian smiled his most charming smile.

"I'm not a child. I don't want cocoa." Ciel pursed his lips.

"That's a shame because I do." Sebastian chuckled. "I might be able to find something for you to eat as well...to repay you for helping me with the Internet the other day." Sebastian turned without watching Ciel's response, certain Ciel would follow.

Ciel stared after him, debating his choices. He could follow Sebastian...and attempt to get information...or he could wait.

After all, going with Sebastian might further ostracize him. But Redmond had dropped a lot of the pressure he'd been holding over Ciel...so it wasn't much of an issue any longer. _No one's here to see me go, anyway._ Ciel thought to himself, and went after Sebastian.

"What kind of food?" he asked carefully. His stomach growled.

Sebastian chuckled; a dark sound that sent shivers down Ciel's neck. "Cocoa for now. We'll see...I was thinking...Well, why don't you come with me."

Ciel frowned. _Is he trying to sound ominous, or mysterious?_ he wondered.

Ciel hesitated before the entrance; reluctant to go into the same room Redmond had cornered him in. He peered through the door before going in, and even then he hesitated on the threshold. He noticed the heavy ceramic cups— stylish but not overly decorative. It was a far cry from the delicate Victorian style cups he imagined Sebastian would favor, even for hot chocolate.

It was this detail, perhaps, that drew him in. _Watching him in close proximity would be good. And aside from that...if I don't have the nerves to go in a room, how am I going to succeed my father? Being by his side, watching him...I could learn his habits. I wonder how much he knows about what's going on in the school? And if I can't make it past one door...I'm hardly good enough for the Phantomhive name._ Ciel chided himself.

"Make yourself comfortable. It will be just a moment."

Ciel watched as Sebastian made hot cocoa. Rather than simply add hot water to a powdered mix, however, he added some melted chocolate to some hot milk, and stirred briskly.

"Go ahead." Sebastian handed him a cup.

Ciel took it, lifted it up to catch the scent, and smiled faintly. "Nice." He sipped, and considered his words. "...So. Why here?" He asked eventually.

"Would you prefer to go elsewhere?" Sebastian asked.

Ciel made no reply. He took another drink of cocoa.

"You handled things well enough, Mr. Phantomhive. They won't try anything like that again. At least…not when you're expecting it or have time to plan a counter attack."

"Is that supposed to be comforting?" Ciel scoffed, feeling more annoyed than anything.

"You don't seem afraid…are you in need of comforting, Ciel?" Sebastian smiled slowly.

Ciel couldn't think of a coherent answer. He sipped his cocoa.

Sebastian cleared his throat. "As it turns out...I had a question about one of the _apuri_..."

"An app?" Ciel asked, his interest sharpening.

"You mentioned Jorudan the other time. What exactly is it for?"

"Oh, that's easy. _Jorudan,_ is like the Google maps for trains in Japan." On his phone, Ciel typed in the local station name as the start point and Shinjuku as the destination.

"So this tells me the distance, time, and fare to travel to downtown Tokyo. Hmm…" He seemed to consider something. He set down the dishes and took Ciel's mug, leaving it on a tray. "Let me take you for a ride."

Ciel quirked an eyebrow. "Um. No thank you. You said—"

"An afternoon." Sebastian interrupted. "I'm afraid you can't convince me to take no for an answer."

And the next thing Ciel realized was that they were standing before the train station. He gaped, his young mind unable to explain the teleportation-like speed. "What?"

His eyes moved wildly from the ticket gates to the walking passengers, checking the station clock. No one seemed to find anything amiss, though, so he quickly shut his mouth.

Sebastian eyed him with a pleased expression. "This, Ciel Phantomhive," he said dramatically, "is going to be the beginning…let's test that website. Test if it costs the exact fare, and if the directions are correct."

Ciel felt faint. He wondered how far he'd get if he sprinted for school…_not very,_ he decided,not when Sebastian has decided you're prey. A wave of cold dread washed over him and settled in his stomach.

"We buy tickets from the man in the booth?" Sebastian asked leisurely.

"No, there's an automated machine." Ciel pointed. "You probably ought to get an IC card or electronic pass. They're more convenient, sir."

Sebastian nodded absently, and five minutes later, they had boarded a train heading for Shinjuku. Ciel was beginning to wonder if he should phone the police.

"There aren't enough seats." Sebastian sounded surprised.

"It only takes twenty or so minutes." Ciel put scorn into his voice, hoping Sebastian would stop talking to him. And that maybe he could sneak out the doors at the next station and double back… "It's only something like fifteen kilometers…"

Sebastian blinked, and then took hold of Ciel's shoulder, maneuvering him out of the way of a boarding passenger. "So we're to stand." Ciel thought Sebastian might look disgruntled. "Why do they sell more seats than they have available?"

"It's not full," Ciel protested. "Look at all the hanging _surikawa_." He raked his head for the English to that, and came up blank. "Those hanging things. If everyone has one to hold onto, we're fine."

"Being shuttled off like cattle…" Sebastian definitely sounded miffed. Or maybe amused.

They stopped at the next station. Ciel moved a step toward the door—and found Sebastian took hold of his shoulders and turned him around smartly.

He waited the rest of the time in sullen silence.

"Do you want something to eat?" Sebastian asked once they'd arrived in Shinjuku.

"I need to study," Ciel said, wondering if this counted as a date. And then was immediately mortified to be thinking it. "So you'll be taking me back soon," he added hastily, trying to act like this was his entire agenda.

"Fish and chips have been popular in London for an age. What is it you young people in Japan like?"

"Er…." said Ciel, unhelpfully.

Sebastian, undeterred by Ciel's reaction, started walking.

Ciel looked after him, thinking that this just might be his chance to bolt.

"Why don't we check out some shops? You can get a new suit or some casual clothes for after class..." he stumbled over his words, too busy to be careful since he was planning on escaping as soon as Sebastian headed for the dressing rooms.

Sebastian considered the street before them and raised an eyebrow. "When I asked the other teachers...they recommended sushi."

Ciel scowled. "Sushi? That could take a while…"

"Ah, well isn't that quaint. There's a restaurant offering carry-out…octopus…in a cup." Sebastian stopped in front of what looked to Ciel like a fast food restaurant. He appeared to be looking past the crowd at an advert.

Ciel sniffed. "Yes. Well. 'Octopus in a cup' is called takoyaki. I suppose we could try it." (*1)

They lined up in silence. Ciel tugged at his school uniform self-consciously. Sebastian procured a wallet. Ciel's heart pounded in his throat. He looked up at the dim lighting and down at the counter, and was amazed to find Sebastian was somehow feet ahead of him in line.

"Hey," Ciel tugged at Sebastian's sleeve. "You're supposed to cue up from the back..." he muttered.

But when he looked around, sure he'd see disgruntled looks or even anger, the rest of the groups—couples, mostly, he noted with chagrin— didn't seem to find anything out of the ordinary. They had a sort of...complacent look...that Ciel found immediately suspicious.

"Whatever do you mean?" Sebastian said slyly, handing Ciel his fried food. "Enjoy."

"..." Ciel took the cup hesitantly, and they began to walk. Sebastian casually swung his arm around the boy's shoulder, steering him out of the way, and successfully detouring any plan for escape.

Ciel's cheeks colored. Someone seeing them would either assume they were family (_oh. hell._), or that it was some kind of compensated dating...(*2)

Ciel looked up into the night sky.

The cityscape was not so very different from the one Ciel was familiar with. There was perhaps more smog during the workweek, but the looming buildings were just as cold and distant as ever. Impressive, but not comfortable. Ciel found himself missing his usual haunts…the winding streets and cramped roads. It was so much less…corporal…than this.

Ciel stuffed the last battered ball into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

"You seem distracted," Sebastian observed.

"...it's nothing. The corporate world just reminds me of family is all," Ciel muttered. "Or, of my dad at least."

Sebastian _hmmed_ absently, and touched Ciel's cheek.

And when he blinked, the scene changed again.

Notes:

(*1) takoyaki are considered a _kansai_ food. Kansai is the area of southern central Japan (Osaka, Hiroshima, Kyoto, etc). As Sebastian described it, it is a bit of boiled octopus tentacle chopped up and baked into a small round ball. It's basically bite sized battered food which is eaten with a sweet-and-salty sauce and topped with shavings of onion and mayonnaise. I enjoy a similar recipe, but I use vegetarian fake meat or shitake mushrooms instead- I fully recommend it. Google for an image.

(*2) Enjo-kōsai (援助交際) (shortened form enkō (援交)) means "compensated dating" and is when a person (typically a high school girl) is compensated via gifts to date an older person (typically a man.) It's not technically prostitution, but it comes very very close.

Thank you again for reading!


	14. pretensions fall away

Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and alert updates. I feel so happy! :D Paxloria, animelovernewbie, Yana5, Carrie2sky and guests. I read and appreciate each of your comments.

(Sorry for the delayed update…the next scene was giving me, uh. Trouble. XD will update again once my beta 'n me look over it…)

Thank you to Carrie for the beta! You are a doll and a huge support.

* * *

o0o0o0o0o0o

**Chapter 14:** pretensions fall away

Sebastian was standing against the fading light, his face cast in shadow. But Ciel knew the smile when he saw it. It could almost be a mask, hiding some deeper intentions, or a clever distortion of them. Ciel swallowed, and attempted to look unimpressed.

"Is this what you want to see, little master? The entire city for your taking. Power that only a demon could place in your hands…" Sebastian's heels clicked on the cement. "You would wear the victor's crown in any game of your choosing."

Ciel eyed Sebastian with mild curiosity. "Uh-huh." He wondered if Sebastian was alluding to the _yakuza(*1)_...some non-native teachers seemed obsessed with them, despite dwindling numbers. And despite people like his dad.

He continued trying to ignore the horizon line, which had moved considerably since he'd noticed it last. It was distinctly lower than it would be if he were on the ground, where he was supposed to be. Not to mention, it was rather windier.

"Form a contract with me, and you will never have want for riches, power and influence."

"I don't think you can offer me anything that my family hasn't already," Ciel scoffed, turning up his nose.

Sebastian frowned, not expecting to be turned down so easily.

He changed his surprise into an advantage, though, and purred, "Ah, so you think such things can be passed down from father to son." His teeth glinted in the low light. "Your father cannot give you everything. You hinted at it yourself...you suggested as much on that day..." he leaned in close, his gloved hands a breath away from Ciel's cheeks. "...your father does not trust you. And so he could not give you everything he has."

Sebastian's eyes were luminous in the sunset, reflecting a violent red.

"And how do you propose to give me anything?" The words tumbled out of his lips, less cross than he intended.

"I am a spirit." Sebastian's tongue was just a touch of red against the shadow of his mouth.

Ciel laughed outright.

"A demon," Sebastian said carefully.

Ciel gaped. "You're joking." Ciel started looking more seriously for a way out. Where were the police when you needed them? Or even a particularly talkative salesperson would do. Anything to distract Sebastian from him long enough for Ciel to slip away.

Sebastian's gaze was steady. "I am not."

It dawned on Ciel then, that Sebastian was not tipping his cards. He was flashing them quite on purpose.

_If this is a plot,_ he thought, distracted, _I don't know what the stakes are. I don't know what game we're playing._ Ciel started to move out of Sebastian's direct line of sight. He walked toward the building's edge, glanced down, and thought hard and fast.

Sebastian Michaelis had arranged for Edgar Redmond to be caught at his own game. He procured things at speed. He learned…if he was learning…monstrously fast. _Is he…could he really…_ Ciel thought.

Sebastian caught Ciel's hand as he moved away, gently restraining him. His hand was hot— burning.

Ciel yelped in surprise.

But when he looked at his hand, there was no mark of a burn...only a strange numbness. He stared.

"I would have you, Ciel Phantomhive. Join me in a Contract, and I shall give you all the power you want."

Ciel opened and closed his fist. His expression flickered between confused and curious. "There's a trick," he muttered, as though he hadn't heard. Ciel scoffed. His irritation had returned, and he stopped looking like a fragile boy. He leaned over the balcony. "There's a trick to this. I haven't figured it out yet, maybe, but I know there's a trick to this."

The way Sebastian stood, near looming over Ciel, had a hint of malice, and no small amount of greed. Sebastian was tall, slender, and darkly amused. Against the light, his features were blurred and cast in shadow. It was as though he had no true form at all. Ciel looked on at his smile, transfixed as Sebastian began to speak.

"I could give you the secrets of life, and death." Sebastian arched an eyebrow. "You could stay young and healthy for an eternity."

Then something of the shock of the situation fell away. Ciel shook his head and snorted again. "I won't even spend time in private with you if you say obvious lies like _that_." He made a face.

Silence stretched between them. Sebastian looked vaguely annoyed for a second, but his face was quickly a smooth mask again. Ciel wondered then if he saw anything at all…or just imagined it.

"If you were to be my servant..." Ciel said slowly, making sure not to agree just yet. He wasn't stupid enough to bargain away his life or worse without knowing more details.

Sebastian's eyes flashed a burning red once more. He continued smiling, if that's what you could call the subtle tilt of lips.

Ciel's heart was in his mouth. "Don't lie to me. Don't betray me. Do not do anything that goes against my plans." He looked from Sebastian to the cityscape, and a blush stained his cheeks. He wanted to grin all the sudden now he was in on the joke, but that lack of decorum would not speak well of him.

Sebastian frowned, and then smiled slyly. His eyes glittered. "You want knowledge and power, then. I could tell you your friends, teachers and parents' secrets, Mr. Phantomhive. Your plans would be greatly improved by such knowledge."

Ciel felt his interest pique, but kept his expression carefully wary. He had the feeling that if he showed a hint of greed, a hint of interest, it would be like admitting a fatal weakness to a predator.

Sebastian's hands were usually still. By his side or calmly clasped, as though he were at attention. But now, he leaned in again. While they were alone, Sebastian would use subtle gestures, soft movements, and other ploys to get close. It was as though he gained something…

_Some kind of…pleasure? Power?_ Ciel wondered. From being so close.

"How could you know these things?" Ciel demanded. "I won't be tricked into making a bargain. I have too much to lose. Now take me home, or I'll never—do— never make a contract with you." Ciel faltered, but he didn't need a contract to boss anyone around.

Sebastian's composure slipped. At first he only chuckled. Then his eyes closed, and he laughed. That smile— wilder and wider than before— split his face as he laughed, and soon he was bent over, clutching at his stomach.

Ciel stared, surprised, uncomfortable, and a little shocked.

Then Sebastian stood up straighter. He let his features fall into blank acceptance, and nodded once. "As you wish, my lord."

Ciel turned imperiously on his heel, determined not to show his confusion. "Then get me off this building. We need to get back, or the cafeteria will close—"

Sebastian reached down, and pulled Ciel into his arms.

When they leapt off the building, Ciel was sure he had made a terrible mistake. However, the scenery flashed by, and before he knew it, they were running on a train. Running atop it, racing across the scenery faster than humanly possible. There was a new chill to the air, and a desperate beating in his chest that matched the pressure of the wind. They really were moving.

_What trick could allow for this inhuman speed?_ Thoroughly spooked, Ciel said nothing._Maybe it's not real. Maybe this is a hallucination…_ he didn't like that thought. Losing control of his perception would be a quick way to lose his "innocent schoolboy" reputation. If it was still there at all, after Redmond's rumor mill.

He swallowed and waited, torn between impatience and awe, for the journey to end. He turned his face against the biting wind, and closed his eyes, counting the beats of his heart.

Once properly on the school grounds, Ciel felt faint. He clutched at Sebastian's arm, weaving backwards. He was about to test his footing, look at his electronic pass or something to tell him it'd been real, when someone cleared his throat in the dark.

"It is past curfew, Mr. Phantomhive," the voice rang out dolefully.

Ciel's untrusting eyes flashed toward it in the dark, and his eyes immediately stung. He wanted to look away, wanted to sit down. It was as though his few minutes in Sebastian's grasp had left him weaker, and his eyes certainly sorer.

But that soon passed, and he could discern the figure frowning before them. Vice Principal Agares swung his flashlight to the pair of them.

Ciel privately thought that a lantern would look more appropriate, considering the old fashioned clothes the Vice Principal preferred. He swayed as he tried to distance himself from Sebastian.

Mr. Agares continued. "You are quite out of bounds. We will have to discuss this matter of student discipline among the teachers."

Sebastian offered a tiny, formal bow. He looked as though he had several things to say at once, but could not decide on what he wanted to say first.

Agares turned his gaze to Sebastian, then. "I take it you found him wandering around the grounds?"

Sebastian nodded. "I'm afraid so." He merely smiled when Ciel turned to glare at him, colorful protests already on his lips. But he seemed to think better of it; instead he fell back on his role as an inconspicuous Junior High student.

"I was only trying to get some fresh air…cool air helps my asthma." Ciel chewed his lip.

Sebastian bent down, his eyes shining in amusement. "That's a rather obvious excuse, don't you think?" He murmured. "As his assistant-homeroom-teacher, I will escort him to the dorms…"

The Vice Principal nodded gravely. "I will go record the offense."

Safely out of hearing range, they headed back to the dormitory. Annoyance and anger  
kept Ciel's steps brisk as he pondered the best course of revenge.

_Oh, yes. Sebastian Michaelis, you should know better than to mess with me._  
Innocent reputation or not, Ciel Phantomhive knew how to get even.

…but this was the first time he tried anything against an adult… _No matter,_ he thought. _He wants something from me. I'll use it against him, and he'll fall so hard…_

He tried to forget his teacher's role in blackmailing Redmond. He tried to ignore that inhuman speed, and the strange events that always seemed to follow Sebastian Michaelis.

"Have a good evening, Ciel." Sebastian's face was calm, but humor danced behind his eyes. "You'll find a boxed-lunch on your desk. Eat it…and I'll treat you to warm, French-style foods next time."

"There won't be a next time," Ciel sniffed. "Good night, Professor Michaelis." He sincerely doubted Sebastian would have the ability to sneak into his room now. There were too many people watching, and teachers stood out.

Sebastian smiled, mysterious as ever. He watched Ciel enter the dorm, and when Ciel turned to look back, he was already gone.

And sure enough, when Ciel flung the door open—perhaps letting it slam shut a bit _too_ loudly, but he was annoyed—there was a lunch set on his desk, a glass and bottle of something suspiciously wine-looking, and a note in Sebastian's antiquated hand.

_Enjoy the evening meal, Ciel. I will collect the dishes when you have finished._

Ciel crumpled the note and threw it in the bin.

Demons and teachers be damned.

* * *

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

*(1) a secret organization of criminals in Japan that is similar to the Mafia (This definition is from Oxford American dictionary online).

So! Thoughts?

Don't forget, reviews are the most important part of support you can offer to fanfic authors. HEARTs and (: ! Not to mention…I get super hyper and write lots after talking to you guys.


	15. Rumors

**Thank you Carrie, for a really fast beta! **I hope you're enjoying this gift fic. I will try not to run out of creative energy... *tries***  
**

**Thank you** for all the support! I live off of reviews and kind words...it's the end of term. I have no energy. (goes to sleep)

* * *

**Chapter 15: Rumors**

Ciel couldn't stay in his room any longer. He'd already left the cafeteria without breakfast twenty minutes before, once he realized what the morning's topic was.

The number of eyes fixed on him just before homeroom should have warned him, before he even caught some of what they were saying.

"—a Junior High student in the 3-5—"

"—in trouble with Mr. Michaelis—"

"Oh, I know him! He's the boy who—"

It turned out that some student had been standing outside of the Teacher's Office during the student discipline (*1)) meeting. Ciel felt his stomach flip. Junior High students don't usually garner so much attention. Perhaps it was his reputation… Ciel drew out his chair and sat, trying not to look dejected.

"They held a meeting? What did he _do_? It must have been bad—"

"I heard there was a teacher with him…"

"That was Sebastian," Undertaker chuckled, startling the students. He seemed to appear whenever least expected, despite his long silver hair and bony fingers poking into everything. He managed to brush between Ciel and his surrounding year mates, senior classmen, and other potential customers. Needless to say, this frustrated everyone.

"Ciel. Don't look so depressed; it's just a detention." Bluer leaned in close, putting his formidable height between Ciel and most of the onlookers. With Bluer blocking Ciel from view, Ciel could relax a little. When he turned his guarded gaze to Ciel, he offered a tiny smile. "You never get into trouble," he soothed. "Don't worry about it so much..."

Ciel tried to hide his trembling hand; suddenly certain Sebastian was going to do something terrible. _I hope it'll be quick. I hope that Sebastian isn't a demon after all..._ Thoroughly miserable, he missed whatever other words of sympathy the others had to say.

"By the way, are you coming to the Fencing club meeting today? Redmond was asking for you," Bluer asked casually. He handed Ciel a banana. "You ought to eat something for breakfast, you know."

Ciel ducked his head, not wanting his irritation to show to Bluer. It wouldn't do for his senior classman to realize exactly how little he wanted to hear that. His relationship with Redmond was strained, and Ciel remained uncertain how much any of the upperclassmen had put together. There were certainly clues to a falling out, but neither student had made anything clear. Ciel intended it to stay that way.

"I'm fine," he mumbled. "Not hungry."

"Eat," Bluer insisted.

A strange, high-pitched cackle interrupted their argument. Both boys turned to see what made the offending noise.

"Ohhh, we can't have that, Mister Phantomhive..." the Undertaker peered at Ciel from under his long hair. Ciel caught a glimpse of yellow-green eyes. "You have to eat something, or that Sebastian just might..." too amused to continue, he dissolved into a snickering mess. Apparently he was unable to make whatever-Sebastian-might-be-doing more clear.

"You _know_ Sebastian." Ciel frowned. Something tickled the edge of his memory…like he knew something and forgot. So absorbed by this incongruent information, he didn't bother trying to disguise his suspicion. He frowned outright, demanding more information rather than showing anxiety like his role demanded.

"Know Sebastian..." Undertaker snickered. "Mm. Yes, I suppose." His smile looked more like a leer. "But wasn't it you who told me his name?"

Bluer looked between the two of them, confused and a little annoyed at the interruption. But more eyes than Bluer's and Undertaker watched him. The silence that had overcome the cafeteria gave Ciel an inkling of something he'd rather not think on too much. Perhaps his persona was not as innocent and forgettable as he had thought…

"Excuse me, sir, but Professor Michaelis is a teacher at the school, and I don't think he would behave in a way that should cause anyone concern," Bluer decided to inform his employer. He placed a tray before Ciel. "French Toast with maple filling, fresh whipped cream on the side." He paused for effect and added, "on the house," with a glance askew at Undertaker.

Undertaker only smiled. "Michaelis may be a teacher here, but I know his kind..." Here, several non-native speakers blinked alongside Bluer. Ciel glared, and then attempted to correct this lapse in character by pouting.

"He's..." Undertaker flashed a look of purest amusement at Ciel. "...an unreliable narrator...who might just imagine himself as another Humbert, wouldn't you say?"

The students all exchanged glances, suitably confused at this enigmatic expression.

"In other words," Undertaker continued, pushing the plate of toast at Ciel, "he needs you to act first. So if you are good," Undertaker folded his bony hands on the table, "and don't push him, Ciel Phantomhive...it would be all right." He coughed. "But that might be impossible for you. So maybe you should request the detention to be rescheduled. Get another teacher to handle it."

Ciel squirmed, tapping his fork gently into the fresh whipped cream. The conversation was not going where he wanted it. Was Undertaker hinting that he was like _Lolita_? He made a face. More importantly, Undertaker seemed to be giving an awful lot of free advice. That was unlike him, and Ciel was keenly aware of how this might turn into a 'you owe me' situation.

"I'm afraid I don't see your point," Bluer said in a _this is final_ sort of way. "Ciel has ever been the model of gentlemanly behavior." Then he decided to retreat back behind the counter at that, and a number of students hastily turned away from Ciel then.

"Give us a show then, Ciel. Show us exactly how it's done," Undertaker called blithely. The bell rang, announcing the beginning of the morning teacher meeting. Ten minutes remained before class began.

"Chin up." Bluer called from his place at the counter. "If anyone asks, just remind them..."

"That a gentleman's business is his own affair?" Ciel confirmed quietly.

"Quite right." He smiled at the Undertaker. "Thank you for the breakfast."

Whether he noticed the dismissal or not, Undertaker made no sign. He was already fading into the back.

Ciel swallowed, and closed his eyes. It would be a long day.

* * *

tbc...

(*1) Student Discipline: in case you wanted to know. Student discipline is decided privately between the homeroom teacher (tannin), the offending party, the head of the teachers if necessary (he's called vice-principal in English, but his title is 教徒、literally "head of the teachers."), and one of the teachers unlucky enough to have been roped into being the "student discipline teacher." (Changes every year.) Usually, you hear about minor "offenses" like, "he was caught riding double" (er, 2 people on one bike.) - against the law because it's unsafe. Don't do it. There's a fine. (Side note: it's also really hard to do. People are heavy.)

Anyway! Student Discipline is then announced (in as short a time as possible, with as little personal information included as possible) at the regular teachers' meeting, I think, so people are aware of the situation. Students are supposed to wait down the hall so no one can hear, but sometimes...yeah.

(*?) For those of you who don't like allusions, Humbert is a main character known for being an unreliable narrator. _Lolita_ was a book before it was a fashion...which a lot of you probably already knew. :) (It's also a nickname.)

So...that is a big hint, but if you know that book, give yourself 5pts for literary know-how. Wiki will tell you a lot if you haven't heard of it yet.

Now do tell me what you think. I write for fun, but I live for your reviews. :)


	16. Ciel in trouble (punishment)

Thank you to Carrie for the beta! Enjoy!

Thank you readers! Thank you especially commenters; I have been soooo exhausted recently.

**Summary:** Ciel is in trouble...and Sebastian will meter out the punishment.  
**Warnings:** indication of explicit. Work safe.  
**Word Count:** 1,000

**This is the censored version. The (longer,) teen version is on AO3 and dA, which you can find in my bio.**

* * *

**Ciel, in Trouble**

(Sebastian)  
I raised my hand to the final student's door and rapped sharply. "There is a dorm meeting, Mr. McMillan. Your presence is required."

The door opened, and McMillan looked at me with wide eyes. "O-oh. Yes, sir." He turned tail and fled, sparing only a glance over his shoulder at me. Such a compliant boy...

Back in the lounge, the students gathered in small clusters around the TV, in the sofas and standing by either exits. There was a nervous tension in the air, while students gossiped in hushed whispers.

Ciel sat in an overlarge armchair, refusing to stand in front of his peers as I instructed. Outwardly calm, he looked at me with a startlingly cool gaze. His heart was beating terribly, though, and I'm sure if he stood, some trembling would reveal him.

McMillan brushed past me to stand next to the other Junior High students.

"Good evening everyone." I allowed my boots to clack nosily and all eyes turned to me. I can command silence when I need to, and no small amount of fear. The silence opened, leaving more than Ciel's heart aflutter.

"Good evening sir," Some students replied.

Ciel was quiet. He watched me as one watches a player about to make an opening move.

I drew their eyes back to me with a small gesture. "As I told the resident assistants, there has been a serious breach of the rules. You all know what time curfew is by now. And you are all old enough to understand why we have such strict rules in place." I swept my gaze around the students, meeting as many eyes as dared look up.

"Your safety." They shuffled as the rebuke reverberated in the small space. "Yes, you need to stay inside after curfew so that no harm comes to you. Junior High third year students have been allowed in the dormitories only with the understanding that you will behave as your upperclassmen do," I said.

Ciel straightened. He glanced up at me with annoyance that he couldn't wholly disguise. He seemed to think that his "innocent student" act fools everyone, but there are more than a few students staring at him askance, their mouths turned down in petulant scowls.

"Unfortunately, a Junior High School student was out of his dormitory two nights ago." All students turned their collective gaze on Ciel, rumors having been circulating ever since that time. I refused to let myself smile, tempting though it was.

Ciel glared at me with such hate, how could I not be amused?

"Sir, what are you going to…?" Redmond began to ask, but didn't dare to finish. Funny that it should be him to ask. Ciel did not seem to think so, though. He eyed the boy suspiciously for a heartbeat before turning his attention back on me.

I smiled then; it would be good to see him recognize how close he came to expulsion. "Ciel Phantomhive. Come with me. I must administer your punishment."

Ciel lost what little color remained in his cheeks. When he stood, he wavered, as though he might fall back down. I wondered what punishment he was imagining…Displaying the compassion and care a teacher of my rank should, I took his elbow and caught him before he could fall.

"Sir, what is the punishment?" Another student, Bluer, this time, dared to intervene.

"Simply detention, Bluer. If you will would, Phantomhive, the sooner we begin, the sooner you can get to bed. And stay there this time, I trust."

Ciel tried to look as though he wasn't relying on me to remain standing. He removed his hand and took a step forward. "Where will it take place?" he asked quietly, his cheeks still tinged pink.

"Never mind that..." I turned him in the proper direction. Two sets of footsteps sounded ominously now. Careful to select a study room close to where the other students still lingered, I opened a door. _All the better for them to hear,_ I thought.

I motioned him in and shut the door. For a moment, I leaned against it, allowing myself a small smile at this triumph.

"So…" I murmured. "I wonder what this will do to your reputation…? You're not supposed to be caught, are you?"

Ciel swallowed, and only a lifetime of social-training kept him from fidgeting, from glancing wildly around the room. That father of his has served an excellent example, it would seem. "Am I to write lines, sir?" he asked sullenly.

Ah. Not quite the master of his emotions, is he?

"No," I purred.

"You can't touch me." Ciel's chin was raised, and there was no quaver in his voice. His posture screamed defiance.

"You really think I can't, don't you, little Ciel. But, alas, you refused to form a contract before." Finally, I allow myself to smile. "If you don't make a contract with me, you have no control over me. I could make your life hell."

"I'll scream."

I laughed. "If you scream over a little spanking, I'm sure your classmates might actually start to believe that you really are only a Junior High student."

Ciel's brow furrowed. "What do you mean by that?"

"You think you've got them fooled into believing that you are a sweet innocent. You think you've escaped your family's reputation for being, hmm… not quite on the wrong side of the law." I removed my white gloves. "Let me tell, you, Ciel." I put my hands against his wrists, and gently moved him over a chair. "You haven't fooled anyone."

Ciel wavered then. He glanced from the door to the rest of the room, checking the windows (locked) and looking for anything that might help him. Must have been quite an upbringing, if he's really thinking of escaping. I was faster though.

The boy struggled under my hands, refusing to bend easily. He was quiet, though. _So_ quiet. Humans and their pride… it made me laugh.

"What's so funny?" he demanded. "Let go of me!" he hissed. "You'll—"

"I'll be sorry?" I mocked. "Do you really think so? It will be over in a few seconds."

I raised my hand, ready to administer the strike.

* * *

tbc...

**A/N: ** This is the work-safe, PG13 safe version. If you'd like to read the Teen version (with Sebastian actually smacking Ciel...), I recommend you take a look at my bio, find a link to my "more mature" archive, and read it there. I would like to protect the interests of readers who'd really have me cut down on the erotic punishment, so this is the edited version. (Note: it's about half the length of the Teen version.)

For those of you looking for lemons, please note that **neither** version is graphic or could be rated mature, I believe.

SO! I have been exhausted lately. :( Your words would greatly encourage me. (Fidgets)


	17. That Teacher, in Trouble

**A/N:** thank you for all the lovely reviews. You inspired me to write on the next chapter! I'm very happy you are all enjoying the story, and "the punishment" scene: both the teen version (located on deviantART and Ao3) and the shorter version posted here.

I'll try and not let you down. (:

* * *

oOoOoOo

_That Teacher, in Trouble._

(Sebastian)

My phone rang again. I ignored it resolutely, and shoved it to the bottom of my bag. When a tall shadow fell through the glass door, Undertaker's inane humming stopped.

I put the finishing touches of cream on one of the petite cakes, and looked up in time to see the Vice Principal, Mr. Agares, crash through the door. He landed sprawled over two ornate chairs.

Undertaker snickered and helped the man up. "Vice Principal," Undertaker crooned. "What brings you here? Have any jokes to share…?"

I set my tools aside, and considered my employer.

"Mr. Michaelis, I'm afraid you really must come back to school. Your absence is fanning the rumors."

I raised one eyebrow. "Rumors?"

Undertaker leaned in causally. "Do tell."

Agares sighed, an expression of pained exasperation.

"People are saying that you laid a hand on a Junior High School student. Members of the PTA, teachers and students have all been gossiping for the past 24 hours." His voice was neutral, stoic even. The only sign of his displeasure was his stern grip on his own cell phone, which also flashed and buzzed with unnecessary noise.

Though no one had mentioned the detention until now, the teachers had apparently gleaned information from the student body. The children were wont to gossip, after all, so it seemed that word had finally caught up with the staff. Not to mention a few PTA members…who also seemed to have my phone number.

I suspected Phantomhive.

"I'm afraid there is nothing to those rumours. It was only a detention, Vice Principal." I pick up a knife and began cutting the cakes into individual pieces. "...Also, class has finished for the day. Please allow me to indulge in my hobby."

"You are a professor at our school. You must take responsibility for your actions!" Agares held his phone before him, as if demanding I look at the amount of trouble it was causing.

Undertaker looked between us, bemused. "Maybe you should apologize." He waved one hand vaguely, displaying long black nails. "Write a letter of resignation on a sheet and hang it in the school gate?"

"There's no need to resign." I murmured, nonchalant as I removed the apron. "But, yes, of course, I will return to school straight away."

So that I can find out who leaked information to the News reporters and PTA. Ciel may think he has the upper hand, or perhaps the sympathy of the staff and teachers, but I have plans. "We can't have little Phantomhive and the mass media making a story out of that…" I met Agares's gaze.

"What do you mean," Agares's tone was carefully measured.

"Phantomhive obviously believes he can get away with such a blatant lie. You may check the…security cameras, yes?"

After all, what would be the harm in checking the recordings? I'd already altered the record. The only remaining evidence of the events that night was what I wanted them to see—that is, the part when I had him sit and write lines. It amused me that I could practice my new computer technology and eliminate any possible incriminating evidence.

Ah, but what Ciel would think, if he knew his tutelage had provided me with the seeds to his own downfall?

I smiled pleasantly.

Agares seemed to have difficulties swallowing. He coughed shallowly. "Professor," he whined. "You can't deny what half the school—"

"Half the school seems to be under the impression that a young Ciel Phantomhive has links with the underworld. They are dreadfully curious about anything that comes out of his mouth—even if it is blatantly false."

"You deny all charges, then," Agares stated.

"Of course," I smiled politely.

"That won't keep the media out of this. This is a disaster for the school—"

"I don't think today is such a slow news day as that, sir."

Undertaker pulled out a chair for Agares. "Have a seat, Vice Principal. I can serve you a dead gorgeous cup of coffee…we even have skull cakes left…"

Agares ignored him and stared at me. "You're taking this too lightly."

"I see." I pursed my lips, and moved to wash my hands. "Shall we return to school so I can fulfill my responsibilities? No one mentioned anything before…" I offered a frown, as though confused by why no one thought to stop me before I left the school only an hour before. "Undertaker, please excuse me. I have business to attend, it seems."

"Not at all." Undertaker grinned. "I'll have someone watch shop, I think. I'll come with you both…check up on the school café and all."

oOoOoOo

* * *

"Look who we have here," I smiled down at the child. He's either brave or foolish to confront me on his own. There we were under the shade of a tree outside the school building.

Ciel glared at me balefully, looking utterly delectable in his irritation. "You should have been fired, you know, for causing such a scandal. This story should have been on every News channel, and reporters should rightly be hounding your every footstep." Ciel seemed to be sulking because these things were _not_ happening. "Who did you bribe to keep out of the lime light?"

"No one." I smiled.

"So you're telling me you just happened to get off scot-free without any work on your part." Disbelief colored the boy's statement.

"I hardly call being lectured by the Vice Principal and head Junior High teacher getting off scot-free." I tapped my fingers.

Ciel scoffed. Who would have thought such a tiny thing could make so much noise. "I don't believe it."

"Will you be telling Daddy then?" I asked nonchalantly. There were a few students milling about, all of them curious what we could possibly have to say to each other.

Ciel's mouth opened. Then closed. "You're not endearing yourself to me, you know." Those blue eyes of his narrowed. He must be planning something...or perhaps not. He might just be annoyed.

"And having your name spouted on every channel would be amusing, then?"

"I'm a minor! They would have kept my name out of it." Stubborn to the last, Ciel even argued with dignity. "Besides, that shouldn't have happened to begin with. I should have told everyone you abducted me." He crossed his arms.

"Ciel, have some sensitivity. There was a case very like that...some reporter abducted a child today, didn't you hear?" Honey coated my words. I wonder if he can read the threat between the lines. "Stop making a fuss about a detention."

"A _detention._" Ciel seethed. "You did that. The child-"

"What is this nonsense? I won't allow a student to accuse a staff member of such heinous crimes."

Ciel was outraged. He barely managed to reign in his anger, but kicked the ground—most childishly, I might add. Then he screwed his face into an angelic smile, and softened his gaze to look at me. "I know what you are," he said, just as sweetly. "I can reveal you, and…and then you'll just have to leave. You couldn't stay."

He doesn't know what he's talking about it, and feared he might be wrong. There's a certain lack of substance to his threat.

"I know you had something to do with that newsie, and the head teacher's own little scandal. You set people up," Ciel continued.

I considered him. "You know something of what I can do. Don't you think it would be better to influence me, rather than run me off?" I put two fingers under his chin.

"Not a chance." Ciel scowled.

"Someone else here is pulling the strings, Ciel. Someone has put you off me..." I brushed Ciel's fringe out of his eyes. "Your memory is suspect."

"You're telling me I misremembered my own detention?"

He practically shook with anger.

"We met twice before that day in homeroom._You_ named me, Ciel Phantomhive. Undertaker told you as much..."

Ciel was quiet. My words seemed to have struck a note in him, and some of the anger fell away. He has been too upset, too angry. It is not good for a Phantomhive to ignore intrigue around him, and my words have shaken him. He has missed a plot right under his nose.

"I would remember that," he said thickly, suspiciously.

"There is magic involved," I reminded him. "Demon's work…or a reaper's? But no. That is unlikely." My own thoughts spun around the idea.

But I wasn't allowed any time to explore that idea. The wind rustled the leaves, and I have the sense again that someone or something had already set its gaze on Ciel. I turned to look around, but rather than a subtle intruder, I was granted the sight of the vice principal stubbing his toe on a rock. He manages to kick the thing directly into his own face.

Ciel's breath caught in his throat. He sounded as though he was hard pressed to keep from either crying or laughing. I wondered which.

"Professor Michaelis…" Agares muttered, squeezing his nose to quell the flow of blood. "I need to speak to you." He didn't spare more than a glance at Ciel. "It came to my attention that your paperwork hasn't quite been finished. I know you were hired only a few days ago, but there are certain documents we need copies of right away." Agares wiped his forehead with a pocket tissue.

"Documents, sir?" I stared blankly.

Agares' eyes flit to the boy for a fraction of a second before they returned to me. Again, he ignored Ciel. "Well, to start with, we need a copy of your Resident Card (*1) and visa. Where is your paperwork? We don't have your apartment on file, either…"

I cleared my throat, trying to disguise my annoyed, somewhat mystified expression. Not many humans ever noticed my lack of documents and paperwork (when it was required at all) in the old days.

"I will go get the required documents immediately," I replied smoothly. "Perhaps during my lunch hour?"

Agares smiled thinly. "A copy will suffice. You are already in possession of the Residence card, are you not? Please present it." He held out his hand.

Ciel looked from Agares to me, his wide blue eyes shining.

"Is that a usual request, Vice Principal?"

"It is quite standard," Agares confirmed. That stiff upper lip never seemed more like a sneer.

I glanced at Ciel for confirmation, but he only shrugged. "It's in my office."

Ciel practiced his 'intrigued' expression. He looked a little too cunning, in my opinion. "Hm," he mused. "I needed to ask you about something, Professor..."And he followed me, just like that.

I smiled.

Agares called after us, "I need the apartment address and a copy of your lease by 4:00pm!"

It seemed I would need to clarify a few things for my employer. If only I knew what was required...

"I foresee a long battle with Agares and the School Office personnel." I sighed.

"You've gone starking," Ciel said, apparently awed. "You have no idea what kind of things you need to work legally, do you?"

I didn't bother confirming the obvious.

* * *

oOoOoOo

tbc…

(*1) Agares is demanding the Resident Card, which used to be called "Alien Registration Card", and it does need to be carried with you at all times if you're an adult. "Children up to the age of 16 have no legal requirement to keep the card on their person." (cites a gov. website) . Penalties for not complying are: deportation (according to my teachers.) It's like an ID, but required by law to keep with you wherever you go.

Gentle critique is always accepted.

So! Thoughts?


	18. Attacked on two Sides

**A/N: **24-hour clock is used in Japan, especially for meeting times, train times, etc. 17:00 is 5pm.

**Thank you!** for all the reviews and favorites. You may have noticed I am slow replying. I am short on energy recently, so all of your energetic conversations make me beam with joy and write more. :)

**Chapter 18: Attacked from both sides**

* * *

(Sebastian)

Agares wouldn't let up.

"Your presence is no longer thought to be enough to substitute for the previous history teacher's load," he explained, and introduced Charles Grey, a young, experienced teacher of aristocratic bearing. "He will help cover the courses, extracurricular activities and guide the students between junior high school and high school."

I, on the other hand, was requested to do less. I would teach fewer classes and join the PTA meetings, a rotten assignment if I ever saw one.

"You did well with the parent-child teacher conference, didn't you?" Agares smiled thinly, his tone irritatingly smarmy. "Why don't you give your lesson notes to Professor Grey, and we can forget about that…rusty old thing you wanted to use. Students don't _really_ need it in the classroom."

All the while, Charles was praised for going to the National History Museum, a history workshop and tutorial several times that week. "He wrote a five page paper explaining how it _directly_ benefited his students."

But of course, a certain degree of expertise was to be expected. _Grey _actually had a teacher's license, though previously, he used it to teach rich home schooled children. Before joining the school's staff, he made a point of publishing teaching articles and giving presentations on how to "properly" teach the Queen's English.

At one point, I failed to see Grey approaching the history office, and thus missed the opportunity to head back to the teacher's room.

"Oh, Professor Michaelis. Do you think you could put those books on that other shelf? I want a place for my publications and medal for my service to the Queen…Now that I have an office, that is, now that I have office space, I would like a nice place to display them…" Grey flashed his overly white teeth.

"Of course. I was just leaving…" I began, eager to retreat. The uppity young teacher might start snapping teaching jargon at me again, and then I might actually have to respond.

He truly is a loathsome creature. However, I must remain coolly professional, and spend my nights researching modern teaching instead of looking into Ciel Phantomhive's mysterious past and oh-so-tantalizing mental state.  
It really was unfortunate that there were so few hours in a day…which reminded me. The teacher's school day ended at 17:00. I smiled.

"What did you think of my lesson plan? You can use it, if you like…"

"I was just heading out, Professor Grey. If you would excuse me…"

Grey's smile disappeared. "You've been avoiding me all day, Mister Michaelis…" He put all the aristocratic disapproval he could muster into that comment.

"The school day has finished, and I only have one last call to make..." I slipped past his guard and through the unlocked door. It was simplicity in itself to make it to the school telephone, and a matter of seconds to dial the number.

Grey followed me in, observed me for a few moments, and then sighed. He apparently didn't want to look as though he was free enough (or a low enough position as the newest member of the staff…) to await my leisure, so he took himself out.

I held onto the phone, the picture of a teacher patiently waiting to talk to a parent. In reality, the line was dead. I made meaningless one-sided talk for the benefit of any eavesdroppers, and snuck out the door, thus successfully evaded Grey. For today.

Unfortunately, Vice Principal Agares still managed to find me. "Mr. Michaelis. I hope you've been thinking about how you handled the disciplinary action the other day. You may find yourself in an awkward situation with the student's family, you see. The homeroom teacher just finished talking to Mr. Phantomhive...he may wish to talk to you as well. I believe he's still on campus." He pushed up his glasses with a long finger. "Do feel free to consult a senior teacher about anything before a confrontation occurs."

"Thank you sir. I will do that." I smiled frostily, and nodded in acknowledgement. "If you'll excuse me?"

"It would be best if you waited in your office or the teacher's room for a bit longer. You may be needed."

"Yes, of course, sir." I headed back for my office and counted to five.

If Mr. Phantomhive was at school, then he might be talking to Ciel...that was some information I was not willing to miss. If Mr. Phantomhive decided to seek me out after all, then it would be a simple matter of beating him to the office. Child's play, for a teacher of quality.

* * *

oOoOoOo

I found Ciel talking with his father in our study room. Presumably, it was Phantomhive senior's influence (or good looks) that kept other students from entering the study room. Or perhaps they never used it. The two of them were sitting close together, like co-conspirators in a plot.

Ciel kept his head ducked low, but the impatient tapping of his foot made it clear that he wanted a turn to speak. Phantomhive senior obligingly stopped his tirade. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Father, I...I wasn't even off the school grounds. I wasn't going to go off grounds... I thought I could talk to Professor Michaelis about...something, and he took me outside. I didn't even want to—"

"He took you outside?" Phantomhive looked skeptical.

Ciel swallowed. Suddenly his restlessness evaporated, leaving him rigidly straight. "Yes...he said...he said he was going to take me—"

Vincent. Yes, I remembered his name now. He frowned slightly at his son.

"Take you where, Ciel?" He obviously was accustomed to having control over the conversation, and he relinquished it only superficially.

Ciel knew that. And his (undoubtedly carefully planned) speech fell to pieces as he played his part. His body language suggested a confused teen, at odds with the entire situation. "He wanted me to show him how to use an app…you know, Jorudan…" he finished lamely.

"Then why didn't you say your teacher asked you to leave the dorm that night?" Vincent asked slowly. The anger was gone from his voice— only cool, calm authority. The kind of tone that makes 'good people' want to please the speaker. "Waiting so long to tell someone that...it sounds as though it's a convenient excuse. As though you thought up a story to explain the crime."

Ciel blushed. It might have been the embarrassment of having this conversation at all, but I had to admire his ability to control his features. He looked an innocent, susceptible boy.

"What really happened?" Vincent pressed.

"He..." Ciel said slowly. He met Vincent's gaze for a moment, and then his eyes shifted again. He looked down, clenched his fists tightly. "He wanted to take me to a...a hotel," he said, his voice barely audible.

Vincent froze.

"I didn't go," Ciel said hurriedly. "That's when...when Vice Principal came."

Ah, so he attempts to move his Bishop against me. A clever move from a desperate boy. _The situation has gotten decidedly more difficult…_

Vincent nodded his assent, his mind racing to put the pieces together. It explained Ciel's flustered inability to respond that night, certainly. And a shy, hormonal boy might easily be too embarrassed to even suggest attempted harassment. If modern times were anything like the past...

...but Ciel was no blushing girl. Someone taking his virtue would be inexcusable only if it offended the family honor.

Though I suppose...without his consent, the idea might offend his father.

"Ciel, you need to tell the teachers immediately when something like that happens." Vincent's voice was grave. He sighed, and studied his son intently. "I will be having words with your professor. I don't suppose you have any evidence? Text messages, photos, a witness or any such thing?"

Ciel looked at his hands. "No," he whispered.

That little brat. I suppose he _can_ act.

Looking at his son, Vincent shook his head. Frustration finally got the better of him, he stood, and began to pace.

"I...I don't want this to be about _me,_" Ciel muttered. Then he started speaking more clearly, and louder too. "I just don't want people to think it was _my_ fault, and I...I don't want them to think I'm trying to get attention or anything. Or that I—that I— I'm not interested in that sort of—"

Ciel stopped himself and took a slow breath. I'm sure every stutter was perfectly calculated.

"You don't want it to be public knowledge," Vincent murmured. "I see." He didn't look happy. "But we can't leave your...opponent...unchecked." His expression went from cool and collected to hard determination.

"We will have words, Ciel. Do you have any other...claims to add to what you already told me? Don't hold back now." At Ciel's silence, he sighed. "Well. I need to think things over..."

I decided then that it would be best to head back to my office. The damage was done, and Vincent may yet decide to seek legal action. But if I call them before they have time...

Ciel's accusations can still be blown to pieces.

Safe at my desk, I smoothed my clothing and straightened the edge of a book. I smiled.

This could prove to be very entertaining...

* * *

oOoOoOo

"Mr. Michaelis, the only reason I agreed to this meeting is because my son is not here. Why are we having it here, of all places?" Vincent frowned at me over a freshly brewed cup of tea.

At this proximity, I realized Mr. Phantomhive had dressed every part the Lord for today's visit. Gone are the comfortable, stylish slacks. He was showing off the family wealth, dressed in a well-fitted suit.

"The Swan is a student favorite, yes, but of late, your son has taken to avoiding it..." I noted. "He might not have told you."

"I will grant you that." Vincent gazed at me with the intensity that a cobra would envy. "He has not been the most forthcoming with the happenings at his school lately. However…I heard that you administered punishment for my son after he was found outside after hours?" The words were slow, careful.

"That much is true."

"He says there's more to the story. Enough to start a lawsuit get you fired and possibly deported."

I smiled back at him, at ease even in that situation. "I image he keeps quiet about a great many things. However, I'm sure it's nothing that you couldn't uncover for yourself." With perfection born of practice and a keen eye, I folded my napkin. "You seem to be avoiding a subject..."

"I want your story. Tell me what happened and why. I'll let you know if you need to find yourself a lawyer." His tone was blunt, demanding. Vincent leaned forward on his hands, reading my every movement, my very body language.

"Mr. Phantomhive, I am quite pleased to speak with you, but I remain unconvinced that you are willing to listen." I sighed for effect. "I was attempting to speak with your son...to get him to pass along some sensitive information. I requested he follow my lead and accompany me out of the school, but," I cleared my throat. "He seemed to misunderstand my intentions." I raised an eyebrow. "Teenagers and their overly active imaginations and all."

I slid an envelope across the table. Vincent did not move to pick it up.  
His gaze hardened, and he changed his demeanor immediately. Suddenly, I was faced with a coolly angry aristocrat. "So you admit you asked him to break curfew. Then you threw my son to the wolves and punished him for obedience?"

I shook my head slowly. "You misunderstand. Agares found us on the school grounds...to respond in any way other than the Vice Principal expected me would have compromised my situation at this school."

Vincent was not yet convinced. At last, he opened the envelope. He was silent for several long minutes as he studied the content. "Why do you even need to stay at _this _school?"

"Excellent." I leaned back. "You don't trust me immediately. That's good..." I tilted my head to observe him. "I would have been most disappointed if you had."

Vincent kept his silence. Instead of replying, he sipped at his tea.

It was Ciel who helped me log onto the server of the school and explained the basics of security, after all. And so I had experimented.

At last, Vincent shook his head in disbelief. "Couldn't a man with that kind of information have another kind of employment? What keeps you here? A boarding school." He tapped the envelope as if for emphasis.

I chuckled. "This position provides necessary cover, and access to certain...assets. Even you, I think, thought me little more than a temporary professor."

"Assets?"

"I'm afraid mum's the word. I have my...orders." I smiled thinly, hoping he might associate me with the light side of power, and in line with whatever it is he really works for. It would take more than a few hours (or maybe even a few weeks) to figure out all of the Phantomhive secrets, and I hoped he wouldn't unearth too many of mine while I tried to lure Ciel in.

Vincent cleared his throat. "For the time being, Ciel and I will have words. If you really didn't threaten Ciel…well, I'll see what he says about your stack of evidence. I assume you wanted him to pass it on to me?" He waited for a conformation. I said nothing. "Well, next time you need to punish him, why don't you make him come up with a solution to the problem, and in the meanwhile, leave the punishment to the rest of the staff..." He gave me a sardonic smile.

He set his teacup down with an air of finality and tried to give some advice as an underling, of sorts. "A teacher's power is his influence. Use it subtly, so neither student nor parent realizes what you are doing."

We made some inconsequential small talk, but I knew that threat had passed. I didn't need to worry about Mr. Phantomhive. Probably. At least, he wouldn't be a distraction from making the contract with Ciel. Once I made the contract, anything Mr. Phantomhive could have said would come too late.

_Though it might be fun to play with the father and son anyway..._

The whole situation amused me. I concentrated on looking the proper mix of teacher and spy for the Queen, all the while imagining what Ciel Phantomhive's soul would taste like.

oOoOoOo

* * *

Tbc...

Thoughts?

I'm only 7,000 words ahead of you in planning, soooo...uh...eep. I have to write lots to keep up this fast-posting schedule. XD encouraging candy reviews for me? Inspiration and sugar all in one go.


	19. His Would-Be-Master, retreating

**A/N: **I love all of the conversations we have going on and around this story. Thank you all for inspiring me! I am still slowly responding to reviews!

* * *

**19: His Would-Be-Master, Retreating. **

Ciel watched the scenery rush by with satisfaction. Going home for the weekend was just the thing to distract him from Sebastian—and it would keep the demon comfortably _away._

As he neared the countryside (as countryside as one could get and still be nearish Tokyo, anyways,) fewer and fewer passengers remained. Ciel watched impassively as the doors opened and closed, feeling the tension drain from his body.

He had almost closed his eyes to doze off when someone sat down next to him. A flash of annoyance made Ciel frown. Why should anyone sit next to him when there were so many other seats available? But when he turned his head, his expression fell away to astonishment. Ciel actually stood up, unceremoniously sending his things flying. Instead of thumping to the floor or the contents spilling out, however, Sebastian held out a hand and caught the messenger bag and neatly rearranged the contents.

"Calm yourself, Ciel. You wouldn't want to cause a commotion. We're nearly to your family manor, are we not?"

Ciel quickly sat back down and fixed Sebastian with his best impression of his dad's 'don't be silly' look. "It's not a manor, it's just a house. A _nice_ house, but it's not called anything else here." _Except maybe a villa,_ some traitorous part of him thought. "And don't call me Ciel. What are you doing here anyway?"

Sebastian smiled slyly. "If you wish me to address you with respect, make a contract. You can't get rid of me otherwise."

"My father will_hardly_ approve of you lurking about." Ciel stuck out his chin.

"He won't even know I'm there. You'll look quite the foolish, scared child if you suggest otherwise. Your father thinks I'm a kind of information agent—he's not going to believe I'd follow you home for the weekend. Especially if I only let you see me," Sebastian's voice was low and gravely like a cat's satisfied purr.

Ciel decided that the only remaining anti-Sebastian defense was to go to sleep after all.

oOoOoOo

* * *

Ciel wasn't at the local train station for more than a minute before his dad's "secretary" and "servant" Mei-rin and Finnian picked him up. Finnian ordinarily would speed around town on an electric motorbike, but today, he had the Stake-Out Car (at least, that was what Ciel thought of it as).

If either Finnian or Mei-rin noticed Ciel looking behind him to see if Sebastian was making good on his threat to stay out of sight, neither mentioned it.

"Hi Ciel! Welcome home." Finnian grinned at him. Finnian always seemed like a big kid, but in his t-shirt and cargo pants, he looked not much older than Ciel himself. Which was probably true.

"You're right on time! Your father said he'll be around for tea today, as soon as his meeting is over." Mei-rin took Ciel's bag and stowed it in the trunk, miraculously not dropping or breaking anything.

Home-sweet-home was just as nicely decorated and just as empty. With only his father living there, and not even every day, it was as meticulously clean as usual. Barring accidents from any of the 'body-guards'-posing-as-servants, of course.

When Ciel arrived in the foyer, he was greeted by Tanaka, who took his bag and chuckled affectionately.

"It's good to see you, Young Ciel (*1)."

Ciel nodded absently. "I'll just go put my things up, Tanaka. Thank you. Will Dad be long?"

Mr. Tanaka shook his head. "I'm afraid Master Phantomhive didn't leave me with that information...for tea, certainly."

Ciel smiled slightly. "I suppose it depends on the company, doesn't it?" He changed his shoes and went inside.

"I'll be up to my room and get changed, Mr. Tanaka."

"Of course, sir," Tanaka replied, managing to insert just enough of a chuckle to seem grandfatherly rather than grave.

He found himself looking for traces of forced entry as he headed for the stairs, looking at little things that only a family member would notice. But there was nothing amiss.

His bedroom was unchanged, it seemed. His father had neither redecorated nor boxed anything up- only the guest bedroom had the false, "unused" look to it. Ciel's things were still (for the most part) where he'd left them. Minus a few dustings or whatnot.

Ciel breathed a sigh of relief and shut the door, only to find a pair of arms close around his mid-section.

Sebastian pulled Ciel close, and put a long-fingered hand on Ciel cheek. "Welcome home, little master."

Ciel startled rather badly, but Sebastian's grip was too strong to get away easily. He only laughed and turned Ciel around. Dropping to the floor in a sort of old fashioned, abasing posture, he kissed Ciel's hand.

"Can I get you anything?" Sebastian's eyes flared red. He didn't bother to hide his amusement.

Ciel only pulled his hand away and proceeded to ignore the demon. He stalked over to the closet, and turned away from Sebastian, trying to act as though his presence in the room did not make him nervous.

"I've taken the liberty of choosing your clothes for the afternoon, young sir. Allow me to take your jacket...and I will clean your uniform," Sebastian interrupted smoothly.

Ciel looked at the outfit on a- what was that thing called? Tie rack?- and decided to choose his own clothes. Wishing he dared to take his clothes to the bathroom to change, Ciel fiddled with his belt.

"What are you doing?" Sebastian cocked his head, lazily going over to Ciel's desk. Black nails flicked Ciel's things, lingering on a plush animal.

"I want to change. Get out."

"No." Sebastian smiled.

.

Several minutes later, Ciel went back downstairs in clothing (which _Ciel_ picked out, thank you), planning on making himself a cup of tea. A good plan, he had congratulated himself, except that Sebastian was waiting for him in the kitchen. How he avoided being seen by Tanaka, Ciel couldn't begin to guess.

"Have you eaten?" Mr. Tanaka asked quietly. His eyes twinkled at Ciel's appearance (it was as different from Sebastian's chosen attire that it might have been...an unusual combination...), but he made no comment.

"Ah, I'll just have some tea-" Ciel said, and when he closed the cabinet door, Sebastian was gone. Disappeared into shadow.

Ciel nearly dropped the cup.

"Very good, then. Your father received some very pretty cakes this morning. He had them put away, saying you'd appreciate them more than he would. Shall I...?" Tanaka continued.

Ciel spotted a bit of shadow darker than the rest, and wondered if he saw red eyes glinting out of them. He stared at it suspiciously.

"What? Oh. Um...don't you think we should wait for Dad to come back? Eat them together, and all that?" Ciel wanted out of the kitchen.

A chime sounded as the gate was opened for another car to go through. "Ah, that will be Master Phantomhive. Excuse me," Tanaka smiled.

Left alone again, Sebastian was quick to step behind Ciel. "You wanted tea? Let me show you how."

For the second time in less than half an hour, Ciel found his hand in Sebastian's, this time teaspoons and teapots being pushed into his hands as well. "You're a terrible teacher. I'll never remember all this. You make brewing tea too complicated," Ciel complained.

Sebastian smiled his mysterious smile. "True...but you could order me to make you food and tea just to suit." He waited for a moment, and seemed to look out where Tanaka had gone. "I could be your butler. A young, able man who you could entrust to do anything and everything..."

Ciel scowled. "Go away."

"Ciel!" Mei-Rin hissed. "Your dad wants you in the dining room! I'll get the sweets- you just go hug your dad and be nice." She said all of this as she went through the kitchen door, and very nearly ran into a cabinet that mysteriously opened. She toppled over, sending a pile of plates onto the floor.

Ciel had no idea how she managed to do so much damage by walking, but oddly enough, there was no sound of breaking porcelain. He blinked. The offending dishes were back where they were supposed to be, and the cake was on a tray with serving dishes and dainty spoons enough for two.

But Sebastian…he was gone.

Tanaka took the trays and beckoned for his employer's son to follow.

When Tanaka reentered the kitchen, he seemed surprised that "Ciel" had already brewed a pot of tea, and had arranged the cakes onto an antique tea tray.

"Ah, Mei-rin, could you see to Master Phantomhive?" Tanaka politely requested, and surveyed the kitchen. "Everything all right in here, Ciel? Thank you for preparing the cakes…"

"Oh, it wasn't…" Ciel chewed his lip. If Sebastian was going to keep pulling that vanishing act, it would be very hard to convince anyone of his presence after all. _Video evidence may be required,_ he thought.

"Go along now, why don't you?" Tanaka cast a glance toward the sitting room where Mei-Rin could be heard trying to help Master Phantomhive with his suit jacket.

"Mei-Rin, please. I shudder at the thought of you touching anything up close—please confine your exceptional skills to long distanced objectives, or your enemies personal belongings. Not mine," Vincent said in an amused voice. He must have touched her cheek or otherwise touched her feminine side, for she very nearly swooned as the door opened again.

"Ah, Ciel. There you are. Let's try these cakes, shall we?" Vincent sounded so pleased with himself that Ciel nearly forgot how disappointed (for lack of a better word) his father had been. And so it was that father, son and servants settled in the sitting room. Mei-rin hovered near Master Phantomhive's preferred chair, while Finnian appeared to be dusting off a house plant. Tanaka, of course, was setting the table.

"I admit I'm pleased to see you this weekend, Ciel, but could recent events have led you here?" Vincent met his son's eyes, skipping all pretense of small talk.

Ciel fidgeted as the three servants shifted, their interest clearly caught. Ciel resisted the urge to glare at his father.

He wanted to turn to the servants pointedly and say, 'There's no one here to see you playing at being servants. Why are you pretending now?' Because all of them knew what their real jobs were, and cleaning was only ever a front. Instead, he caught Finnian's eye and shook his head very slowly.

_No,_ he tried to convey, _nothing's the matter. I'm fine, so please don't try to sneak into my school again…_

"I…did want to get away for a bit," Ciel admitted. He took the cup in his hand for a distraction.

"Perfectly understandable. Has Mr. Michaelis done anything else you'd like to talk about? Tried to pass on any more information, or tempted you out of curfew?"

_He doesn't seem to realize how condescending it was to stir his tea while addressing a sensitive subject,_ Ciel thought glumly.

Ciel took a deep breath and said, "Sebastian Michaelis is a demon."

Vincent only laughed. "Was he that rude?" He smiled fondly at his son. "This tea is really quite excellent."

Ciel dropped his cake spoon and glowered at his father more openly. "I mean it."

"I don't follow."

"He's _not_ on your side. He's not on _anyone's_ side. He's a sneaking, over-privileged—" Ciel began, turning red with indignation and barely stopping for breath, "—demon!"

He couldn't quite bring himself to say, _and he wants to make some kind of unholy contract with me. I think he wants my soul._ for two reasons. First, Finnian and Bard had started squalling their outrage all at once, and second, well… it was just too much to say all at once.

And he wasn't _really_ sure Sebastian wanted anything of the sort. He might be crazy. They both might be crazy. And he wasn't ready to face that yet, either.

"You don't trust him." Vincent said flatly. "Why."

"What reason do I have to trust him? He's given me nothing but trouble since he came, _oh so conveniently_ to my school after Mr. Clark had an accident. He pins detention on me, alienates me from some of my friends, and then has the gall to say _he's on your side._ I don't trust him. I don't believe him. I want him out of my life." Ciel fumed.

"Ciel." Vincent said warningly. "You've said too much already. If you'd contacted me earlier…"

"It was too late!" Ciel insisted.

Interestingly, all of the servants started talking at once at that. They weren't expecting a clash of values or teenage-al arguments until, say, another three or five years.

"Master. Phantomhive, I think we should listen to Ciel a bit more…" Mei-Rin began.

"What'd he do to you?" Bard demanded, his roughly handsome face suddenly much closer than Ciel would have liked.

And Finnian, who merely asked, "Wait, what?

Vincent ignored the others. "So you don't like your new teacher. And I'm not ignoring your concerns— don't you scoff at me, young man— my informants are watching him as much as they are taking his information. If he needs to be taken out of your school, he will be. Until then, try to stay away."

Ciel looked affronted. "You should have told _me_ more. What did he say to you? Why don't you believe me?"

Vincent held out his hands in exasperation. "What is there to believe? You said he asked you to go out of your dorm. You said so yourself. You told me nothing happened, but you still want me to believe he's a bad person."

"Well, he is."

"Yes, but we're looking into it."

"Tell me what he told you." Ciel stuck out his chin.

"There is information you are not privy to. I won't include you in business, Ciel. You're only thirteen, for god's sake! It was-"

"I'm fourteen, nearly fifteen-" Ciel interrupted.

"-a mistake for Michaelis to approach you at all, I agree, but he agreed to be more discreet in the future, now that I have him in contact with one of my people." Vincent did not even notice Ciel's correction.

Mei-rin and Finnian watched as the pair exchanged heated words. Mei-rin edged closer to Ciel.

"Master. Phantomhive, are you saying that that teacher did something to Ciel?" Finnian looked between the two, his eyes filled with anxiety.

"He didn't!" Ciel was quick to explain.

"The teacher claims to be an operative. I believe I told you. We're looking into the situation," Vincent was saying, talking over Ciel.

"He ought to be fired right away," Mei-rin huffed. "Anyone who threatens the Phantomhives shouldn't be left alone to _teach._" She waved a feather duster for emphasis.

"Begging your pardon for interrupting," Tanaka murmured, "but I believe Master Phantomhive said the situation was being examined. If this professor is not what he says he is, I suspect you three will be the first to be sent out to deal with him."

"Like that would do any good," Ciel muttered, thinking of Sebastian's speed. How could you even shoot something like that, unless he was just playing around?

"Ciel," Vincent sighed. "Put some trust in me. I will do my best to keep you safe. Don't ask for details that could compromise that very safety."

Tanaka cleared his throat. "Do either of you have a request for dinner?"

"I'll help!" Ciel surprised everyone, by announcing. "What's the point of coming home if I'm left alone the whole time?" He tried a thin smile to explain the unusual offer.

"Ooh, me too!" Finnian held up his hand as though he were in a classroom.

"Te-he. But I can, um...wash up? Fetch things?" Mei-rin too offered her support.

_This arrangement ought to keep Sebastian from harassing me._ Ciel thought with satisfaction. But the red eyes glowing from the shadowy corridor ought to have proved this assumption wrong.

Sebastian's antics had only just begun.

* * *

oOoOoOo

(*1) "Young Ciel" or "Young Lord" or "Little master" or "young sir" could all be translations of botchan. Botchan is really a polite term used only by friends-of-the-family when addressing said person. If used by a stranger, it would come off as a bit rude, kind of like saying, "Miss Up-and-Coming" or "Mr. Right" or "You're rather Young-and-Rich, aren't you?"

(Bocchan can also be Romanized bocchan, but I take the spelling from the English translation of Natsume Soseki's famous novel of the same name: Botchan. BTW! It is apparently noted in the dictionary as "a green young man from a well-to-do family." XD)

So. Thoughts? :) Do you like the Phantomhive manor?


	20. The Phantomhive Manor: dinner party

**Thank you!** For the reviews, favorites, and comments. Still replying slowly.

**A/N:** You guys reacted so positively to Ciel going home I spontaneously decided to extend it. So, this is an additional manor scene, unplanned, and written in the last 24 hours, so...yeah. Now beta-ed by the lovely Carrie! (Thank you~~)

Word count: 3,000? Ish? Ah-hah. I am long winded. Those of you who like short chapters? Just read the last part, (Saturday evening). The rest of you, enjoy the crack.

**Chapter 20: The Phantomhive Manor **

* * *

oOoOoOo

oOoOoOo  
(Friday afternoon)

The demon was away.

Ciel breathed a sigh of relief. He remembered something Sebastian had said to him during their brief internet conversations; Sebastian had an unhealthy obsession with _cats._ So Ciel had sent Finnian out into the neighborhood with a bag of cat toys and catnip, hoping to set the bait.

The silly 'gardener' had skipped off into the streets, and now, several hours later, Sebastian could no longer ignore the playful kitten noises and Finnian's laughter.

Sebastian had gone to investigate, and possibly 'rescue' some cats from the attention, thus leaving Ciel alone in the manor, free to plan. Ciel smiled to himself, imagining Sebastian using his smart-phone to record something mundane as a kitten sneezing, or a cat asleep on the road. All the while unaware of what Ciel was doing inside.

_Perfect._ Ciel thought to himself. _I'll block all the entrances. Dad won't be back until this evening, and if I can get him to use just _one_ door, we can keep the demon out._

Ciel set about gathering the supplies he needed. A few broom handles, some of the furniture and sheets to tie it all together _might_ be enough.

"Ciel? …what are you doing?" Finnian came up behind Ciel while he was ransacking the linen closet.

Ciel dropped the bundle of sheets in his surprise and swiveled to look at Finnian.

"…"  
"Oh, I get it!" Finnian's youthful face split into a grin, and he too started pulling items from the closet. "You're making a fort. That's right, isn't it? There's all sorts of stuff by the door…I kinda knocked some of it over, but I'll help you put it back," Finnian chirped in Japanese.

"You opened the door?" Ciel's eyes widened, and he ran back to the door. Sure enough, heavy furniture and the odd broom or two was strewn aside. The door was barrier free.

Ciel peered out the windows, desperate to see if the demon was still there, playing with those stupid cats, but he saw nothing. Ciel felt a thrill of fear, as he quickly began to reconstruct the barrier. _It might slow him down….or at least make Finnian realize someone came in,_ Ciel told himself.

"Da-da-da-da-dan. Pyuu~" Finnian cried out, and launched his missile— several fluffy pillows which rained down in succession.

Ciel started. "I thought you said you'd _help_, Finny." Ciel struggled with the arm chair and lost his grip as a pillow hit him in the face.

Finnian laughed. "But it's more fun with two sides, right? You need someone to attack! Dan-dan-dan-dan! Gunfire, master Ciel! Hit the deck! I mean, take cover~"

Ciel yelped and did just that as Finnan's secondary weapons were tossed—flower bulbs.

"Finnian, stop playing and help me," Ciel grumbled. "We're going to be under siege by a real enemy."

Finnian paused. "Siege? That sounds like a fun game…" Then he realized Ciel was setting the alarm system as well as sliding the multiple dead locks into place. "Master Ciel? You mean a _real_ intruder? I don't think they could get past the security. But you probably ought to cancel that—Mei-rin is taking in the laundry from outside…"

Sure enough, the alarm sounded. Ciel sighed. Sebastian was sure to follow the maid in—before he could properly barricade all of the doors.

"Aaaah, Ciel, hit the off button!" Finnian ran out the room, presumably to explain to Mei-rin why the alarm was going off.

Ciel chewed his lip and slowly turned around.

As expected, Sebastian ghosted out of nowhere, a small cat in hand and a smirk like none other. "What's this, Ciel? Making a mess are we? Or are you trying to keep me…" Sebastian set his cat down and gently touched the boy's shoulders before sliding his hands down the boy's back. "…out?"

Ciel hastily stepped away, barely managing not to trip over his own obstacle. "Shut up. Put that cat outside and close the door. I need to call the alarm company."

Sebastian only laughed.

* * *

oOoOoOo

(Saturday morning.)

"Ciel, sir?" Tanaka called from the hall. "Were you researching in the library?"

Ciel looked up from his laptop. "Hm?"

"The library, young sir…" Tanaka said affectionately. "I'm afraid I don't know which of your books to clean away, and which ones to leave out. It is rather…untidy."

Ciel turned fully to face the butler. It was unusual for Tanaka to come ask him a question about housekeeping: ordinarily, those jobs were familiar enough that Tanaka could go about his business without bothering anyone. He was, after all, highly trained to respect his masters' wishes.

"Let's have a look…" Ciel got up, trying to remember what books he'd been looking at. _Ah, yeah. That. Demon possession and exorcism…_ He thought he'd put them all back though.

They opened the door to the library.

"What." Ciel's breath came out in an exasperated sigh. "Who did this?"

Tanaka was too polite to give Ciel an odd look, but he did stiffen in surprise. "I asked the others, but they have been otherwise occupied…Master Phantomhive has had them out on errands for the better part of the morning. Finnian has only just returned, and the others won't be back until lunch."

Ciel eyed the mess. Shelves were practically upturned in places, and books were laid out haphazardly next to notebook paper, highlighter pens stuck in various spines, and more books in other unusual positions. The entire mess looked half balanced, artistic, even, in the areas that were cluttered.

Footsteps from the hallway. Ciel didn't need to turn around to know it was his father coming in from a spare room. At first, Vincent didn't say anything, except to draw in his breath when he saw the mess.

"…Tanaka, why don't you go…um…see to some tea." Ciel hastily offered a reason to get Tanaka away from the scene…he didn't relish the thought of being lectured in front of the man who'd cared for him for years. "I'm sorry. I should have, uh… taken care."

Tanaka withdrew, leaving father and son to regard one another warily.

"Ciel." Vincent began.

"Um." Ciel replied.

"What were you thinking?"

"I…" Ciel sputtered. _Didn't do it. That demon is playing tricks on me!_ He thought. But he couldn't very well say _that._

"You do realize I have a dinner party tonight." Vincent closed his eyes. With one hand, he massaged his neck, and with the other, he closed the door to the library. "I want you to straighten things up. You aren't to have lunch until you do."

Sometimes, Ciel reflected glumly, he wished his father would yell. It was so much easier to be indignant about it if Vincent just seemed more…evil-mastermind-ish.

"Yes, sir."

Vincent withdrew.

Just as expected, the ghost-of-a-butler appeared as soon as the door shut.  
"Hello Ciel."

"Why did you make this mess?" Ciel demanded.

"I was making note of the Phantomhive knowledge," Sebastian replied, unperturbed. "To see what you know of the world and its workings."

"By tearing up the _library?_ And what's with those highlighters in the books? Some of those books are really old. Did you damage any of them?"

Sebastian chuckled. "I thought it would give the scene a more 'authentic' feel. I've seen you mark your place with all sorts of things."

"Clean this up." Ciel demanded.

"I have the right to decline," Sebastian demurred. "Unless you give me what I want."

Ciel fumed. "Fine. Get out so I can get to work." He picked up a book, dropped the papers that had been sandwiched between the pages onto the desk, and scowled. _Authentic? I do _not_ make this much of a mess,_ he thought to himself.

A few tiresome minutes later, Tanaka opened the door. "Ciel." He stealthily waved the boy over. "You need energy to clean this much." He offered by way of explanation. "Eat it in your room, and when you're done, I'll help you clean up in here." His kind eyes sparkled.

Ciel grinned at him. "Thanks!"

Tanaka only shook his head slightly, and led the boy back with the glass of milk and fresh fruit.

After that quick lunch, Ciel sent Tanaka on ahead to dispose of the evidence, hoping his father wouldn't run into him on the way. When he opened the door, however, a new sight greeted him.

The library was spotless. And at the center of it all, Sebastian stood with a dusting cloth, a cruel smile, and laughing eyes.

"How am I going to explain this?" Ciel moaned.

Sebastian only looked at him, bemused. "You could tell them I'm new help. I'll take care of everything, Ciel…" He stepped closer.

"If only I give you my soul. Yeah. I remember. The answer is still 'no.'" Ciel stomped over to the bookshelf. "…this isn't where this goes."

"I took the liberty of separating the books by subject, and arranged them alphabetically in English, and by order of the _kana_ in Japanese. You'll find a card index on the table, in the old 'card catalogue' system like the one used by librarians and scholars all over London last I was there."

Ciel snorted. "All that's on computer now."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Your…oldest servant…is back."

The boy sighed, and wished the demon would go away.

Ciel had always admired how Tanaka kept cool no mater the situation. Accordingly, Tanaka's astonished face looked little more than a slightly surprised elderly gentleman. "Oh, my, it cleans up well, doesn't it? Ho ho ho…I suppose I shall help the others with preparations for this evening."

Tanaka closed the door behind him, leaving Ciel with a very smug Sebastian. The demon gave a little bow, and stepped back into the shadows.

"A party tonight? I'm looking forward to it." Sebastian chuckled.

Why, Ciel wondered, did such a common statement fill him with dread when Sebastian said it?

Nothing truly bad would happen...so long as no one turned up dead, it would be the same as countless other parties the Phantomhives held. Except that Vincent had never had a demon guest before.

oOoOoOo

* * *

(Saturday Evening)

"All the useful people," Ciel muttered, watching as another guest came in. This one, he thought he recognized from some society or other—English Gentlemen or something, or perhaps the man represented certain group's interests to the embassy.

Others he didn't recognize by face, but by demeanor. He saw the way a few of them could pass by without raising any eyebrows, and how they subtly stayed out of Vincent's way until given some sign. Then they'd go and talk to Vincent discretely, and never for long.

Informants, partners, a few police officers, and even suspects were all invited to dine with the Phantomhives tonight. Ciel could not hope for a more influential crowd.

However, he had very little to say to them. In fact, he was mostly trying to stay in plain sight without having to talk to _anyone._ He had a feeling this would be the best defense against Sebastian. _Don't let him get you alone again…_

Sebastian, however, was three paces ahead of him, as usual. "Lemon-aid, young sir?"

"You're going to get caught, dressed like that. My father is very careful with his staff, and he'll recognize you immediately." Ciel stuck his chin out. "You won't be able to talk your way out of that."

Sebastian mischievously put a finger to his lips and bowed his head to whisper in Ciel's ear. "He won't see me. None of the staff will see me."

Ciel turned away, deciding to walk directly in the path of _a different_ server. Predictably, Sebastian disappeared.

Ciel smiled.

Ciel heard a tinkling, girlish laugh and turned around to see a vaguely familiar face. "Oh, if it isn't little Ciel Phantomhive..." One of the women declared. There were two of them, each with gray hair and shrewd, watching eyes.

"How you've grown!" The second woman nattered, her voice thin and high, as the other's was low and gravely. When she smiled, she looked faintly vacant, as though she couldn't quite remember where she was. "We met when you were smaller, you know..."

"Oh yes, dear. Do you remember us? I'm Carol, and this is Wendy." The first woman smiled too, but on her, it looked more like a threat.

"It was so sad about your mother, you poor thing." Wendy gave a sad little sigh.

"Why yes, it was a tragedy. Such a tragedy. I heard your father couldn't work for a month! Things must have been in a right state."

"Did they ever find the criminal that did it?" Wendy lifted her chin, looking somehow more like a hopeful child than a gossiping old bat.

Ciel interrupted the flood of voices with what he thought to be quiet, and shy-sounding, "Oh. I remember. You kept saying that I was trying to hide behind things. But I'm in school now…at the international school the Redmonds and Greenhills sponsor. Do you know it?"

"Ohh, it was all over the news," Carol continued happily. The two shriveled old women simply spoke over him, as though he hadn't said anything at all.

"And I remember it was on every time I turned on the telly! Who would have thought the Phantomhives would be involved in such a terrible scandal."

"You must have been so happy they didn't get your father too. Where was it they said you were during all that time?" Those small, crafty eyes bore into him.

Ciel shook his head numbly, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation. "Excuse me..."

"I thought I remembered that you were missing. Did you run away, boy? Or was it kidnapping like the police expected?"

"It wasn't like that," Ciel denied, and took a step backwards. Straight into the imposing figure of the demon, presently glaring daggers at the two old women.

"I do believe your father was calling, young master." Sebastian put a hand to his breast and gave an antiquated bow. He kept his eyes down and his tone quiet and steady, as propriety demanded of a servant.

Ciel nodded, and left the two specter-like old ladies to gossip about his mother's death and the surrounding rumors on their own.

For now, Ciel would stay with the demon. And so, Sebastian stuck to his heels like a black shadow, keeping the gossips at bay. Or at least out of earshot.

Sebastian's protection, however, only extended to the next hired help. Sebastian had an eye for detail that wouldn't allow him to be caught so easily. So Ciel went to the next safest person in the vicinity—his father.

Predictably, Vincent was deep in conversation, probably discussing business.

"—any leads?" a man turned around. "Oh, hello Ciel. Didn't realize you were in town this weekend. Were you careful on your way back from the station?"

To his side, Lau asked cheerfully, "You have heard about that, haven't you? Showing up in news reports and all over Tokyo?" His lips pulled into a leer.

"No," Ciel muttered. "I haven't."

"Yeah, well, me neither." Lau laughed.

Ciel was unsurprised.

"I'm sure those two were talking about something along those lines, though. Too bad you couldn't tell me. Do you suppose it has anything to do with train stations? Is that why they asked you?"

"…no idea. Isn't it just a greeting?"

Lau mirrored his shrug and walked off. "Saa ne." _Who could say?_ "See you later, Ciel." And he wafted off in the direction of his pretty Chinese flower of a "sister." Ciel watched incredulously.

"Whatever," Ciel muttered, finally turning back to his objective. "Good evening," he said breathlessly, as though he considered this the start of his conversation.

Vincent, for once, frowned at Lau's comments rather than start some off colored jokes of his own. He turned away from his son and uttered a few last comments before Ciel caught one word—"disappearance."

"Did you need something, Ciel?" Vincent asked quietly, motioning one of the other adults to 'hold that thought.'

"Wasn't someone calling me?"

"No." Vincent smiled affectionately. "Oh, but haven't you grown. I remember just a few years ago when you'd try to disappear whenever the opportunity first presented itself."

"Now you're all underfoot," one of the gentlemen agreed. "Full of curiosity, isn't he?"

Ciel's cheeks reddened. "Well. If you weren't calling me, I'll be…I'll go enjoy the night air. It was a pleasure to see you." _That didn't go well…_ he thought.

"No need for that." Vincent's expression tightened. It was so subtle that Ciel nearly missed it. "Look there. Mr. and Mrs. Osawa look to be a bit overwhelmed. Why don't you practice your interpreting skills and help them ease into a conversation?"

Feeling thoroughly misdirected, Ciel bobbed his head and went off in that direction. He had no inclination to go straight away, though. First, he needed to make a phone-call…

"Violet?"

"Speaking."

"You had an event this weekend, didn't you?" Ciel stepped into the way of Bard. He appeared to be pretending to have been the one who prepared the food he carried, and when Ciel walked in front of him, he very nearly dropped the whole thing.

"Hey!" Bard protested. "Try and stay out of the way of the _chef,_ mind you!"

Ciel snagged something to nibble on. "It was tomorrow, wasn't it?" He held his breath and waved his hand in some semblance of apology to Bard.

Bard rolled his eyes. "You only just got back. Now you're leaving us so soon?"

"It's rude to eavesdrop, Bard," Ciel chided. "Anyway, it's a sort of school event, right? There'll be lots of, er, students?" Ciel thought this might make the demon _behave_ himself.

"Ah! School events." Bard nodded sagely. "Do you need lunch?"

Ciel shook his head and listened to Violet's explanation. "Uh-huh. Yeah. OK. Tomorrow then?"

Ciel could almost swear he saw two red eyes glowering at him in disapproval.

That very fact made him grin. He swiped another bit of food from Bard, and walked off in the direction his father had pointed him.

_Time to be the good little son…_ he thought.

And so the evening went on.

* * *

oOoOoOo

tbc…

A/N: thank you for the amazing reviews and conversations. It's really easy to write on this story with so many wonderful people to talk to. :D

…so! Keep it up! :D


	21. A Friendly Outing

Much thanks to all of you for reading! Especially reviewers- I love the conversations we have started. :D

Thanks again to Carrie, who betas for me. (:

* * *

A Friendly Outing

(Ciel)

Ciel was determined to keep his eyes shut. He was alone in his house, his father at work, and every one of the servants deployed on some task or other. Yes, he would keep his eyes shut. He'd forget that Sebastian was lying on his bed. Right next to him.  
Petting his hair.

Ciel sat up and shoved Sebastian away. "This is ridiculous." He flicked his phone on and scanned the messages. He had his jacket on and was scribbling a note before Sebastian figured out where he was going.

Sebastian made a noise of displeasure. It was something between a sigh and a frown, and barely discernible. "Little _master_…" he began, "that is not advised."

Ciel fended off Sebastian's hand and turned to smirk at the would-be gentleman.

"You're trying to be my butler, aren't you? So just do as I say, and keep your opinions to yourself." Ciel stuck out his chin a bit.

Sebastian chuckled, and gently pushed Ciel back toward the bed. "It's too early. Sleep a bit longer."

Ciel smirked and said, "No."

Sebastian shook his head and wondered how far this little brat would take him…but the contract appealed to him more and more.

"Of course, my lord."

Ciel only laughed.

oOoOoOo

* * *

(Sebastian)

Ciel's friend Soma was more sensitive than my prospective master thought. He repetitively asked Ciel if he was all right, and quickly noticed Ciel glancing around.

"Are you sure you're up to seeing a fashion show? There's gonna be a lot of people..." Soma asked, navigating effortlessly in the sea of people.

The taller boy continued, "I'm sure Violet would understand... he didn't think you were coming until this morning." Soma held his phone up to his face, glancing to see if he had any new messages. "We could always go to that art store you like. And a cafe. It'd be quieter."

Ciel had just opened his mouth to give some retort when Soma's phone buzzed. Soma grinned apologetically, and answered. "Moshi-mosh~" he said, waving his hand to indicate that Ciel should stand in the side street with him while he talked.

I took the opportunity to slip in next to Ciel.

"So it's Violet's fashion show, is it? Mr. Muto Toshi's work will be featured? How quaint." I leaned in to whisper near his ear, and I had the pleasure of him stiffening in response.

Ciel looked at me scathingly. "_Everyone_ calls him Violet."

I shrugged. "What sort of Art was it that you were so looking forward to? Soma is right…everyone would certainly understand if you wanted to avoid an extracurricular activity…what with your reputation and all."

He glanced at me, annoyed. "I'm going."

"I could always fetch a bit of artwork for your family manner. I can think of a painting or two that would look grand in the foyer…"  
Ciel turned away from me, determined as ever to ignore whatever I said.

Well. He seems particularly responsive to more personal actions. A hand on his back, and he can't look away.

"Go away. Soma will _see_ you."

Indeed, Soma was ending his call, so I stepped back out of sight. _Patience in all things,_ I told myself. A demon learned this maxim before many others.

"So, do you want to go back?" Soma asked casually, as though he and Ciel hadn't ended the conversation at all.

Ciel shook his head stubbornly, and with some effort, he managed to keep from looking strained. "No, I want to see. It's been too long since I've been to an art exhibit."

"All right," Soma shrugged. "We're almost there. It's on the seventh floor of that department building." Soma pointed helpfully to a tall building.

"Hang on a minute," Ciel muttered and he poked at his cellphone. I noticed that he was careful not to tilt the screen towards his tall friend and wondered at his antics. "I need to call my family...help.

Yes, hello? Yes, thank you. Listen, something's come up. I need you to find some reserved tickets for my friends and I. Three tickets to the um, Kary Pamyu Pamyu's concert. Yeah, in Saitama arena right after this. Uh,huh yes. Yeah. Alright, thanks."

Ciel looked straight at the advertisement draped on the side of a building. The date advertised was this very day.

Finally, I realized what Ciel was up to. Clearly he hadn't dialed any numbers, and meant to speak to me without drawing Soma's attention to my presence. I snorted. He thought to give me an order to keep me occupied while he went to the fashion show. Did he _still_ not comprehend that I wasn't required to do any such thing?

Ciel looked up anxiously at Soma, making a strange sort of expression that I was not quite able to decipher. Perhaps he was trying to convince Soma (without use of words that would damn his little ploy utterly…)that he really didn't intend to go to a concert of someone so ridiculous asCarrie Pa-mew… whatever it was…

Well, this would not do. Ciel needed to be assured of something—that I was willing to do any order. I could do this…in seeming. In reality, it is a demon's duty to follow a master's true orders, and he had none of these without a contract. I would follow his heart's desire, but only when he promised me his soul. Which _would be_ mine.

Soma was looking at Ciel strangely through all this account. "Uh-huh…" he said slowly. "Right, we should, um, head for the train by…er, what time is that?"

Ciel fidgeted and frantically tried to suppress any urges. "Soma, we can go soon..." he watched me out of the corner of his eye. "We can go say hello to Violet before we head off, right? Youdid want to come, right? And Violet too, if he…"

He trailed off, clearly trying to cover his foolish, all-too-transparent plan. Ciel would need much practice before he could delve into subterfuge, I fear.

I sighed, and made a tiny nod of ascent, and caught Ciel's eye. He stared at me, face drawn and pale, but with an anticipation that was truly beautiful. I smiled, and leapt into action. My body was lighter than air. Some of the transparency that plagued me when I was nameless returned to me, and I felt a strong pull on my being. I had a glimmer of a tie with Ciel Phantomhive, and this made me highly reluctant to break myself from him. But I did so, and with great speed and elegance.

I was a black streak in his eye. In a few quick motions, I caught a pole and stood, peering down at him for a moment. Then I nodded again, and made my way back in the direction of the station.

He would be explaining to Soma, then, that he had no intention to leave for Saitama this evening. He would make other plans, I think, and would attempt to avoid me for the entire afternoon. But I would circle back, follow him closely, and smile when his little plans all came to nothing.

He would learn soon. With or without a contract, his life was already mine.

Ciel walked on towards the fashion event, looking very pleased with himself. Perhaps he might even enjoy himself now that he thought he was free of me.

oOoOoOo

* * *

tbc...

(*1) Moshi-Moshi is a kind of "hello" used primarily on the telephone. Moshi-mosh is a cute, Soma-ish way of saying the same thing.

(*2) Muto Toshi. Mutou, written 紫藤, Violet Wisteria. (Wow, he has a flower in his name. LOVE. ), and "Gregory" means "watchful, alert," which doesn't translate well into Japanese. So I took the "intelligent" aspect of "alert" and interpreted "watchful" as observant, and decided on Toshi; which means bright, intelligent. With other kanji it can mean a variety of other things too. Either way, everyone calls him Violet. (If he were a girl, he'd be Sumire, but alas…)

(*3) Kary Pamyu Pamyu really is an artist. She's cute, and her songs are slightly techno and musical all in one go. Her most famous song is "Fashion Monster," I think. I like her, even if Sebastian doesn't.

**A/N**:

There will be a short turn around between this and the next chapter, I think. There's only 5 weeks until school starts again, and I want to finish before then if possible...

I'd appreciate any kind words you can send my way! :D How did you find Sebastian's feint? Any guesses as to what is going on? :D


	22. His Would-be-Master, on the runway

**A/N**: an unexpected update. :) I finished replying to all comments! I rejoice.

Thank you to Carrie for putting up with me. XD I know I write frequently and can be hard to keep up with, but you are so~ awesome for it.

Thank you reviewers for the conversations. You inspire me to write more and more!

* * *

**Chapter 22**: _His master, on the runway _

(Sebastian)

Some minutes after my little ruse, I decided it was a good thing I decided to ignore his order and follow him into the department store.

"What do you mean you're short a model? I'm not tall enough to be a model." Ciel scowled. If anyone has the height, it's _Soma_" He looked quite picturesque with his lips pursed. I chuckled to myself.

Mr. Muto (or Violet as he was called by 'everyone' ) stood before the pair looking a cross between annoyed and pleased, smiled thinly. "Well, Soma's already in on the show, now isn't he?"

"No I'm not!" Soma sounded indignant. "Nooooo, I came to watch." He stuck out his chin.

"He has promised to be our biggest supporter from the _audience._"

Soma's mouth was in a little 'oh' of understanding, before he nodded vigorously. "I came to _see,_ Ciel, not participate," he assured the fuming boy. "Why don't you have fun? You won't have to talk to anyone. Just...get dressed and _walk._"

Ciel would not give up without a fight. "You have that swaggering, 'I know I've caught your eye' look down perfectly. Why don't you do it?"

Violet sighed. "The size is more like _yours._ The model was a small, petite _girl,_ none of which Soma fits."

"I'm not a girl either," Ciel muttered.

"But you are both delicate, small, and more, elegant. Also, she had no breasts to speak of, so you're fine there, too." Violet gestured at the door. "In with you. We need to get your hair and makeup done too."

Soma glanced at his watch. "The show starts in 30 minutes. There's not much time! I'll help out in the back- I'm good with makeup you know..."

Briefly, I toyed with the idea of altering Ciel's costume, or of fetching makeup's more appropriate for his pale complexion, but in the end, I decided not to. It would be a shame to miss a moment of his debut.

Ciel was sent into the throng of student artists and department show officials.

"Well." One of the high school students, Cheslock, if memory served, loomed over him. His hair, normally combed in such a way that it's difficult to send him in for a uniform check(*1), has been spiked into a wave of whitish 'froth' for lack of a better word.

Ciel observed him with a faint smile. "Hello Cheslock."

"You don't give us much to work with, do you?" Cheslock closed  
his eyes, exasperated. "You're not even in our school," he sneered.

"I will be," Ciel muttered. "I'm a third year in the junior high program, you know."

"Fancy that," Cheslock muttered. "Put your things down." With that, he threw a plastic sheet over Ciel, and manhandled him over in the direction of a mirror, sink, and makeshift hair styling station.

Another unknown student held up the costume in question. She was eyeing Ciel determinedly, and something of a possessive gleam marked her gaze.

"Violet, he's perfect," she declared.

Violet shrugged. "Mm. Whatever. His coloring is good…" he moved in close to the girl, reached out to touch her cheek, and held her still. "Cheese," he said, without inflection.

I blinked.

He snapped a photo with his cellphone. Then he handed the thin cellphone to her. "Document the transformation. I might want to sketch it later."

With that, a number of other students crowded Cheslock and Ciel, each one trying to get the boy to change out of his clothes, bush his hair or do his makeup simultaneously.

It was most amusing.

"Oh, this color will look great on you!" The girl exclaimed, speaking in the 'cutely' falsetto, coquettish voice (*2), a whine I associated with the girls determined to become school idols.

A quieter student, Harcourt, a blond student a year older than Ciel, hesitantly held out a corset. "Excuse me," he murmured in polite Japanese.

Ah, yes. One of the so-called 'half' (*3) children…this one who barely spoke English out of class. He seemed embarrassed by his pale skin and fair hair.

Ciel turned to look at him, and visibly balked at the item in his hands. "No," he declared. "I'm _not_ wearing that."

Harcourt's smile fell. "But…" he said weakly. "We had it ordered just for today."

"Come on Phantomhive," Cheslock laughed. "It's just a corset."

Ciel somehow talked them out of forcing him into that. "I have asthma. It's always too hot in these places, and I'm already wearing more clothes than necessary. Do you want me to pass out?"

Harcourt nodded, and went to go get the matching fashion socks, and a pair of shoes from the collection.

"Cheslock, that's good. Stop there. Give the rest of us a chance!" The girl butted in. She held out a handful of something silver and pointy.

Ciel looked closely at what she proffered. "What is this for?"

"Well, you're kind of flat chested," she said with a straight face. "And still small. Your chest hasn't broadened at all, but you're not quite big enough in the hips, so I would _like_ to have some give here and need to bring in a seam there, and well, we don't have time to do it all properly, so we'll make do with these."

Ciel looked utterly aghast at the thought of using _safety pins_ for a semi-professional event. He shook his head. "No again."

She pouted at him.

"I'll just nip downstairs to get some proper sewing pins, or fashion tape, if they have it," he insisted. He batted Harcourt's hand away, who was holding a brush with mineral powders on it. "You've already done that," he informed the boy.

Ah, yes. Ciel was considering becoming a professional artisan…or at least taking the fashion courses. I suppose he would have a thing to say about using awkward materials. Especially if there was a possibility that it would pinch him.

"Let's just take one quick photo before you do, so we can discuss what else needs doing…?" the girl muttered. "And we could scare up something more, um, better, if we looked, right? No need to go."

Ciel waved his hands in exasperation. "Take your photo. I'm going downstairs. Give me a pile of those adverts, and it'll see two purposes at once, wouldn't you say?"

"You're ninth in the running," Harcourt reminded Ciel quietly. "It should be about forty-five minutes in, but they want you back for lineup at least twenty minutes before that."

"Got it," Ciel muttered. And with that, the 'petite, delicate' little thing stormed (albeit gracefully) out of the throng. He was not pleased to be around so many people after all.

* * *

**oOoOoO**

(*1) School Uniform checks. Random checks of skirt length (girls), whether or not you're wearing the approved white shirts, undershirts, whether or not your hair is dyed, etc, etc. Though I highly doubt an international school would be too strict on dying your hair. (Don't ask me, though. I'm a public school kinda person.)

(*2) Falsetto, coquettish voice. Many of my American friends visiting me have described the 'cute' voice of girls (and shop attendants) to be whiny and nasal. It is a cultural difference; most Japanese people think it's cute. Sebastian either way thinks it's annoying, but this does not reflect my opinion.

(*3) 'Half' is a somewhat-controversial-in-a-formal-situation term, but it is still a widely-used description of a Japanese person with mixed heritage. This term is especially used with persons who have strong features (especially Caucasian features.) Also, not all persons with mixed heritage can actually speak more than one language. They may be embarrassed if they do, and they may be embarrassed if they don't.

(Oh, why are there footnotes here? You may wonder. Well. Keep reading. Don't let me distract you…

A/N over and out…)

* * *

**oOoOoOo**

Ciel paused at the door, and at that moment, he looked so like a young cat, setting paw out into the world for the first time. As soon as the nearest doorman was looking the wrong way, I put my hands around his waist, and pet his hair.

Ciel stiffened, under my hands and wrenched free. A look of alarm transformed his sweet countenance to…fear? Exasperation? He looked utterly overwhelmed. He masked it quickly, of course, but I could feel his heart speed. "No," Ciel said faintly.

I sniffed, enjoying the scent of his confused fear. Nearly despairing…

"Hello Ciel," I purred. "Such a pity you haven't already made a contract with me...did you forget? You'll need a request a great deal more interesting to remove me from your side today." I pause, and dangle a loose piece of lace before his eyes. His eyes track its movement before his gaze returns to me. "Your costume is coming along nicely."

"You're not wanted here," he breathed. "I'm busy. Go back where you came from."

I had to laugh. Was he rewording some old texts in efforts to _exorcise me?_ Or was he simply being rude? "Not today, little master. Not until we have a contract."

Ciel turned on his toe and marched towards the escalators. Feeling the many eyes on him, he slowed to a more sedate pace and stepped onto the moving stairs.

I thought briefly of getting the pins he needed and surprising him with a handful of pointy sewing things at the bottom of the stairs, but something in Ciel's cautious, wary posture bid me stay. Sometimes things happen in the world with a demon in mind.

Ciel squinted at something in the distance. He was at an angle to the flooring below, just at the part where they couldn't see him, but he had a view of below.

"What…?" Ciel said quietly. He squatted on the stairs, heedless of the fabric that could tear if caught between the moving platforms.

He peered into the depths below, trying for a better look.

Curious, I looked below us.

There was a troupe of performers wearing gaudy costumes. One handed out balloons, while another drew attention to the "Time Sale" event for the store. But that was only a facade. The balloons were attached to something completely unnecessary...and the performers huddled together holding...gas masks?

"It's time for you to choose, Ciel Phantomhive," I whispered. "Make a contract with me now, or…live…with the consequences."

Ciel looked up at me with complete horror in his eyes.

* * *

tbc…

Don't you love my cliff-hangers? So! Tell me what you think? *Drum roll*


	23. The Circus and the Cage

**Thank you** for reviewing! I have had so much fun talking to you all. :D I appreciate your support!

Especially, thank you to Carrie for the beta. You are awesome, finding unfinished thoughts, pointing out disappearing props, etc, etc...encouraging me...thank you again.

**Remember: **  
_"What…?" Ciel said quietly. He squatted on the stairs, heedless of the fabric that could tear if caught between the moving platforms. _

Previously, Sebastian urges Ciel to make a choice right when the boy stumbles into trouble.

* * *

**The Circus.**

(Sebastian)

There was a whirl of commotion between the troupe. Faces turned up at Ciel, sharp with fear and anger. Someone danced out of sight, and another carefully stepped in front of what had to be a large quantity of… whatever it was. I assumed it was their arsenal.

Ciel wrestled with the fabric of his dress. Sadly for him, it was not the gauzy stuff that would tear at such treatment. He was stuck fast on the ever descending steps of the escalator. He would soon reach the floor, where the performers were already moving to surround the boy.

"It's not too late. We still have time to start this," a young man with a similarly painted face, and red, red hair proclaimed. "She doesn't have time to go to security, and our cue should come any second now. Everyone to their places. You, girl. Stay with Beast."

"But Joker! I was going to go with you—" the dark haired woman protested.

"We don't have time for this! The customers are watching." Joker smiled and gallantly bent to help Ciel up. "Are you all right, Miss? Go there with Beast. She'll take care of you."

"What's that thi—" Ciel began, but he was interrupted by the girl wearing a rose headdress.

"What a pretty costume! Are you doing the fashion show upstairs?" The girl pitched her voice expertly, drowning out Ciel's accusation. "Look everyone, there are fliers! There's a student fashion show upstairs! Don't rush now, but look, look!"

Already people seemed to be setting the uneasy moment aside, ready to hustle on with their shopping.

"Everyone!" Ciel began again, but once more he was drowned out.

"Time Sale! It's a time sale!" Two children did cartwheels for the crowd.

"—the balloons—" was the only thing Ciel could make heard.

"Try it! It's great!" The children sang out, their high soprano voices carrying over the crowd.

"—gas—" But Ciel was already being taken to the Staff Only door.

This little group of circus terrorists certainly worked fluidly together. Not a single performer was out of step in making it seem perfectly natural that the young 'girl' in costume be taken away with them.

But what was their goal? Simply to cause mass chaos once they received their signal, or to kill?

I weighed the options, feeling a sense of anticipation, and adrenalin run through me. What I needed was for Ciel to forget about the potential danger of the others, and focus on his own impending misfortune. Without actually losing my chosen human, of course.

The door closed behind them, and Ciel, unused to walking in his heels, stumbled as he was forced along. They wouldn't want him to be in the way…

I kept close to the shadows. It was natural for me to avoid a human's limited sight, and so none of them would notice me either. In that way, I trailed them. Ciel was near panicked, and he scuffed his feet whenever he could, tried to jerk out of their strong arms, and generally caused a ruckus. But there was no one to hear.

"Stop," Beast grunted, "struggling!" She clutched Ciel's upper arm with more force than necessary and glared at the boy. "You can't get past me, so you can't tell anyone about anything you might think you saw." Beast's fingers twitched to her side, flexing, as though she wished to reach for the firearm hidden there.

Ciel stuck out his chin. "Your actions indicate that you're up to something seriously illegal. Something dangerous. I saw-"

"You saw nothing!" Beast tried to smile, but it came out more like a sneer.

The smaller figure leaned against Ciel. When he looked from her pale hands to her sweet, trusting smile, he stopped just long enough for them to re-situate him. "Just wait here a little while. It won't be long now." She rewarded him with a cute little giggle as Beast roughly pulled Ciel's arms behind him.

Ciel looked up in alarm.

Beast half carried him against her back. "Doll…come here. Through these doors…yes…it locks, doesn't it?"

"Mm-hmm," the girl sang.

Ciel wailed. "They'll notice I'm gone," he warned them.

"They won't have the slightest idea where to start looking then, now would they?" Beast shot back.

"Don't worry," Doll said solemnly. "You'll be all right. We're just keeping you out of the way, ok?" She teasingly pressed on his nose, as if he were a child. That action only served to accentuate their similar height. "Be a good boy, and we'll go play when the show is over."

"Whatever you're doing, you're going to get caught. You ought to—"

Beast laughed, her voice harsh. "Of course we'll be caught." She gave a derisive snort, and she truly did look fierce. I was merely amused, however. "Most of us anyway. But that's not the point. Those were our orders."

"That's our role," Doll agreed. She looked at Ciel, her brow furrowing as she considered him. "We know that the Japanese Police Force isn't stupid," Doll said simply. "So getting away…it's not the point." She echoed Beast. It was likely that she didn't have an original thought on the matter.

"We'll go out in a wave of glory." Beast smiled grimly. "Our message will burn brightly on Japan's memory."

Ciel shook his head. He looked confused. "I don't understand."

"You wouldn't," Doll said sadly.

Ciel breathed softly. "If you know you'll be caught…let me go," he demanded. He should have pleaded. Should have smiled. But he didn't.

"No." Doll shook her head. "Someone will come back for you. This might be the best place for you to wait it out."

Beast nudged Ciel, gesturing for him to back up. She kept walking menacingly forward, herding the boy against the wall and near the piping of an old sink. She took a scarf off part of her costume, and wordlessly accepted Doll's. The two pieces tied together was enough to go around Ciel's slender wrists twice, with still enough room to tie him to the exposed pipe. She was thorough, I will give her that.

"There's a good child…" she smiled faintly. "Hold still and this won't hurt a bit. Struggle, and it could cut off your circulation. If it's too tight…you could eventually lose use of your hands. That is, if no one found you soon enough."

Ciel quieted, and dropped his gaze. He was biding his time, to be sure, but the two women assumed he was too scared to think.

Like a true performer, Beast pulled a gauzy piece of fabric, not out of her sleeve (which might have been expected of a children-appropriate Sale Event), but out of her bustier. She tugged at the gauzy red fabric, pulling out centimeter by centimeter delicately. She kept her eyes locked on Ciel's. Ciel struggled again when he realized _where_ she meant to put that fabric, but it didn't help.

"No, no, I'll be quiet. Who's there to hear me?" He gabbled out the words quickly, near tripping over them. _My. He really is fluent if he can beg, isn't he?_

Beast smiled cruelly, and put two fingers on his cheek. The other hand danced across his smooth face, still so soft and tender, and she dared to put one finger in the corner of his mouth. Ciel would have bit her, but she was too nimble.

"Smile," she whispered.

He opened his mouth to scream—a mistake.

Beast slipped the cloth between his teeth, cutting into his mouth and ruining the makeup.

_Ah, a pity._

Then she caressed his lips once more, and tapped his forehead sharply. "Be good," she reminded him.

And then Beast left, her heels clicking as she went.

Doll came after quietly, scurrying. She had lost some of her grace. Doll spared a glance behind her, a sad frown making her somehow more like her namesake.

Ciel was left alone with the knowledge that some act of terror was about to commence, and he, the son of the Dark Gentleman, could do nothing about it. How helpless he must have felt.

* * *

oOoOoOo

When the door closed, as Ciel had thought (hoped) it wouldn't, Ciel began trying to scream in earnest. He banged his feet against the floor, even daring to smack his head against the metal pipe to see if it would make more noise. He was in a right panic.

I couldn't help but laugh.

He met my gaze. In that moment, Ciel's eyes held more hatred for me than they had for his captors.

I looked at him, and then pointedly away. The room was not quite silent. Not enough to drive a person mad with fear. We could hear the outside, hear the utter normalcy that continued, moment by moment. That would not do.

I reached out, in a manner of speaking, and 'tweaked' Ciel's perception just...so. Now it was appropriately silent, and the seconds seemed to Ciel to tick by like hours. He stopped screaming, and gasped for breath, resting, half dozing. My gift to him was a subtle play on his mind, and I lent him the solitude and quiet of Hell. Nothing was so utterly profound as darkness, numbing loneliness, and the ache of hunger gnawing at your stomach. Here was something that might break a child.

Once it felt to Ciel as though he had been tied up and abandoned for hours, I allowed him to focus on me once more. He gasped when I brushed his hair from his face, and shivered violently when I wound my fingers through the scarf for a moment. Ciel winced at the additional pressure, but like a person at knifepoint, he made no sudden moves. I stroked his neck, and at last, removed the gag. Ciel merely took uneven, ragged breaths. He still had enough energy to glare at me.

Time to break the silence.

"You have the power you require to end all of this. I could easily free you. Protect you. You would have such great abilities—available to you with just an order."

I looked into his blue eyes seeking a glimpse of that delectable soul. Ciel met my gaze.

"Your orders would be absolute. You could name three conditions in exchange for one thing and absolute loyalty. Promise me your soul, and I will be your strength."

"Why would I…believe the word of a demon?" Ciel whispered, lacking the oxygen to say anything louder. "I still think…you…might have set this all up. It could all be your fault." His eyes were glassy for a moment, and oddly accepting. "You said it yourself…you would…torment me…into a contract."

"I didn't mean for you to suffer in this way," I murmured, and brushed his cheek. He flinched away, though he tried to mask the motion. "I only meant to tease you. I'm afraid you walked into this mess all on your own." My expression was blank; lacking any easily recognized human emotion.

To be truthful, I did not think the situation so very out of bounds. No one was there to see Ciel's torment, which would have been the worst situation for a boy of his age. He needed an audience to be truly humiliated.

"As you wish. If you wish to invoke a contract, merely call my name."

At last, I let the silence fade. Something was happening outside. I listened to the milling crowd, and pondered the taste of their screams. Their confusion, and fear and mounting terror were like an orchestra performing a subtle masterpiece. I settled down to listen, and wove their voices, stretching seconds into hours, into days. I knew that Ciel would break under the pressure. He would call for me if he thought he would die of thirst and hunger, surely.

But the brat was unwilling to sit still and go mad. Oh no. That determination that set him apart, that desire to do things his way or no way at all, it made him do something entirely unexpected.

I watched, bemused.

Ciel was practically an acrobat, I soon found out—and he pulled several muscles in the process, and dislocated a shoulder, if that noise was any indication, but he'd maneuvered the silk scarves enough. He knew the fabric, I saw, and stretched it against the short weave. And the very safety pins he'd been afraid of poking his delicate skin (positioned neatly by his shoulder, holding up a strap under a layer of shawl), found its way to his mouth. His lips bled only a little. There were no deep cuts then, but he managed to tear the fabric enough to wrestle free.

I applauded his ingenuity. "Well. That was unexpected. Quite the Houdini, little master."

Ciel was focused and intent. He didn't respond to my commentary. Instead he gently massaged feeling his wrists and feet; he still felt as though he'd been in that position for days, after all.

After several minutes of listening to the panicking outside, he ventured a look at me. "If you want me out of here safe and sound..." he swallowed, "to get you that contract..."

I smiled. "I owe you no allegiance until you promise me your soul. I would much rather keep you in my sights. . . Would you like some water? You were tied to a sink, if you recall."

Ciel nodded vigorously. "Yes," he said in a small voice. Ah. It was easy to see how his father still thought of him as a child.

I watched Ciel take slow steps back to the place he was tied, and stepped behind him to steady the boy. His heartbeat was erratic from dehydration. Ciel's swollen fingers struggled with the faucet, but he managed. Gingerly, he opened his mouth to dribble the water in, and then used the water to clean his face and neck. It seemed I don't have to make him stop drinking- he knew enough not to gorge on water.

Ciel tried the door, but of course it's locked, or blocked in some way. Only his eyes moved as he tried to conserve energy, searching for some way to get himself out. At last, his eyes settled on the wall to our right. A wall both his captors and I had dismissed. But Ciel Phantomhive walked right up to it, and sat down, examining the floor. There were grooves there, like the ones I'd seen somewhere before.

Ciel's nimble fingers turned a bar in a circular . . . key . . . near the base of the floor. He shuffled over to two more spaces to do the same, and then took hold of what had to be a...lever. The boy began to slide the room divider, revealing a similar room beside us. A room with a second door.

He didn't bother sending me a triumphant smirk. Ciel marched forward, walking so hastily that his eyes unfocused and pupils shrank to pinpoints.

I caught him as he wavered, preventing him from falling. "Slower, Master Phantomhive," I mimicked Tanaka, and he turned his face toward my voice.

He lay perfectly still in my arms, just breathing. "I need my inhaler..." he said finally. "It's...I don't know where it is..." he continued quietly, and I heard faint wheezes when he spoke.

I sighed. Ciel was an intoxicating mixture of weak and demanding, proud and dependent. I stroked his hair and offered him his inhaler from his bag. I held him upright, in a sitting position that was easiest for his inflamed lungs to function.

Ciel took his medicine, and leaned back into me. Slowly, his breathing steadied.

"What is your plan, Ciel?" I wonder what his scheming intelligence might have devised, but I half suspected he's only moving on instinct.

Ciel opened his eyes wide (thinking to look alert? he looked instead like a kitten, just barely able to walk), and looked at me directly. "Those balloons had some kind of chemical gas in them." At my impassive stare, he continued. "I'm asthmatic. If I stay in here any longer, I'll..."

Ah. Apparently some form of logic has reminded him that it's _still_ the same day- even when his body told him otherwise. I supposed it would be highly unlikely for there to be any more screams if it truly were days later...but nevertheless. I was surprised he reasoned it.

"Yes, my lord." I stood, lifting Ciel into my arms. "Breathe through this," I suggested, and handed him a handkerchief.

"What, no gasmask?" Ciel asked, a hint of a smile quirking his lips.

This door may or may not be locked, but for the sake of a show, I kicked it in, and dashed into a blaze of light and gunfire.

oOoOoOo

* * *

tbc...

Yes, the cliffies continue. XD

So, how do you find my "setting the action" scene? How'd you find the characters?


	24. That Butler takes Flight

**Thank you **readers for being you. And double thanks to reviewers for inspiring me~~! If you inspire me enough (tell me what you like,and I'll get a hunch of what you want to see more of), and the story grows...did you know that you've added at least 10,000 words with your comments?

**Thank you **to Carrie for beta-ing. Your comments and encouragement are great fun.

Enjoy the action scene! Let me know how you felt about it.

* * *

**Chapter 24 : **That Butler takes flight

(Sebastian)

oOoOoOo

All around me, there was chaos. The humans, screaming customers and insane terrorists alike, milled about like so many worthless cattle. We slipped through them as easily as a shadow as I searched for the fastest means of escape.

"Shall I carry you outside so you can inform the police, or do you want to go back to your fashion show?" I teased.

"Get me to the ground floor. I'll call from there," Ciel instructed, already texting, though I couldn't see how he could possibly see the screen at that angle.

Since there weren't any windows, I headed for the escalator, planning on running down the banister. But Joker had that area well guarded. He took a measured aim, and shot two handguns in my direction. I spun out of the way, and took cover behind the gas balloons.

Ciel protested loudly at being next to the gas, however, so I resorted to dodging out of the way.

A bullet clipped the side of my suit jacket, and Joker was still shooting all out.

I slid across the floor, and threw Ciel in the direction of the escalator banister. His small form arched into the air just as—

Joker's shots pelted into my torso and passed through me into the crowd. I twisted my body in the direction I desired and I caught a glimpse of Beast. She was quite the beauty in her own way, and the feral anger she displayed so easily made her intriguing, if not appetizing. She gestured violently at Joker, and her lips moved. I couldn't hear her words over the blood rushing through my ears and the discomfort of being shot, but I read the words there. _'You missed the brat, Joker. She's trouble, and you let her escape.'_ (*1)

Ah, the vicious beauty may be smarter than I gave her credit for. I briefly wondered if I could get anything useful out of her, but failing to see anything due to the fact that she was attacking my future-master, I decided against it.

I let gravity take a hold of me. I made a show of losing my balance and 'fell' down the escalator, right after Ciel. Joker would waste no more materials on me, I hoped. I managed to touch the ground seconds before Ciel (balanced precariously and looking something between annoyed and terrified) was finished with his ride. I caught him neatly and smiled into his dazed eyes.

"Cutting it a bit close, wouldn't you say?" Ciel breathed. His voice was too faint to sound scathing.

"Hm. Wouldn't it be proper for you to show a little gratitude to your savior, little Ciel?" I chided him. "I require very little. A certain promise would do," I reminded him, knowing that even now I could stop to carve the contract marks on his flesh. There would always be time for that.

"Save it," Ciel snapped. "We're not—"

There was a noise from Beast. Our seconds of reprieve were over. Ciel turned away as a gun was aimed at him. Beast's projectile was not the balls of lead (or whatever modern bullets are made of), however, but was something with synthetic feathers and a pointed tip came our way. I jumped up over the projectile's path, and Ciel squinted furiously after it.

"Can you catch that? I want a sample," he demanded.

"Of course," I purred. "Provided she sends us another."

But we were running out of banister, and she was not as fast as I would be. We landed neatly on the next floor before she could shoot any more at us.

"Stop!"

I glanced up to see the little figure in white. Doll. I offered her a tiny smile, and momentarily set Ciel on his feet. If she was to attack, I wanted both hands free to disable her. Beast had specialty darts, and this child held balloons…I briefly wondered what sort of poison could be inside.

"This is hopeless," Ciel muttered. "Stop now, give yourself up to the police." His voice was steady, but quiet. Whatever gas they'd released was less potent here, and he had finally begun to catch his breath.

"Stay where you are," Doll said evenly. "If you try and escape, we'll catch you. There are people on every floor."

I didn't spare her another glance. Although everyone was in a state of panic, there was still time to escape; I didn't have time to listen to the ramblings of fanatics. Doubtless they were carrying out the orders of their leader— probably part of a cult. Or perhaps they were strays taken in by a madman's apparent kindness, and were perfectly willing to be thrown away at his direction. Either way, their actions threatened to injure Ciel. That would not do.

"Doomsday is coming. Father tells us so. It's pointless to run away now..." Doll murmured, and held onto her balloons.

Ciel moved slowly, cautiously, acting as though she were a wild animal. "Have you seen the signs?" he asked with an easy smile. "How can you be sure? Why not just come with us, and we'll tell the police everything we know."

I pressed Ciel into a column as she ran toward us both, leaping into a kick that would have broken his fragile bones. She soared past us, and scrambled back to her feet as she turned around.

I leaned in and kissed Ciel's forehead. "Do stay out of the way."

Doll stared, and took a small step backwards. Her large eye fixed on my shirt, on the slowly widening bloodstain there.

"You're hurt," she said softly, and compassion filled her single visible eye.

Ciel struggled against me, an expression of alarm passing over him. He looked down to see the blood, and he looked stricken. "You…" he began.

Across from us, Doll lurched forward. Her feet took her closer to us, but her emotions made her waver. Doll's porcelain fingers released the balloon as she stretched out her hand—

Now. She couldn't stop me from leaving, and was too distracted to call out to the more dangerous of the two. I moved quickly, and due to the complete lack of windows in this part of the building, I headed towards the non-mechanical stairs, thinking to make our escape by more traditional means.

I pulled Ciel close to me and sped that way, only to find those guarded as well.

There was a flurry of movement, and a little girl dressed in pink and black emerged from her hiding place. She must have been quite determined to help, but I doubted she had any real effect on the situation. Then I saw the other child, a blond boy dressed in shades of green.

Between the two of them they held something faintly reflective- a thin wire held taught. It seemed they meant to strangle us, trip us, or (though I doubted they could manage it) cut us to pieces. Unless it was razor floss...Had technology allowed for such bloody advancement? Considering the high-speed rail service, the technology chips and other things, I suspected it had.

Humans are, after all, a terribly violent race.

The boy stepped forward. "Father wanted to meet you, Phantomhive. It's too bad you had to be here, you little snot. He'll be so disappointed…" His tone and manner were entirely out of place with his visage. The boy looked as though he was a sweet, tender thing still in elementary school, but his scowl and sneering voice spoke otherwise.

Again, Ciel wavered. I had to keep him firmly in my grasp, or he'd fall. Somehow, the presence of these gaudy performers shook him in a way that I and my soft, subtle threats never did. He was at the mercy of stronger men that wanted to do him harm, and they thought nothing of his charms, or his determination.

"Sebastian," Ciel said in a low voice.

The blond sneered, and pulled the gas mask over his face. Opposite him, the girl did the same.

There wasn't time or space to run and get Ciel out of reach of their weapons and poison both. Not with these tiled floors and my own blood making a fine trail. Go back, and Doll or Beast would have me. Go forward, and they would make Ciel fall into poisoned oblivion, drugged on some chemical I did not understand.

So I chose the third option. The lift. I turned my heels and stood before the closed door in an instant.

"Sebastian, the lift won't work! They don't in fires, and the terrorists probably jammed it or something—" Ciel hissed in my ear. Master of his fears at last, he implored me with ferocious conviction.

"It seems, Ciel, that you are right." I set Ciel down to get a better hold, and pried the metal doors open. "Oh good, it's above us," I remarked.

Ciel only had time to let out a despairing moan.

I snaked my arms around his middle, balancing him against me to situate him in a way to promote as much mobility as I could.

"Oh God." Ciel did not try to close his eyes. He flinched, and only looked away when I spared him a glance.

Then I leapt into the air—

A tiny noise escaped Ciel.

— and I pulled with enough force to knock the lift from its hook, and send the cable spinning wildly in its hook. The lock on the cable was broken. I hung onto the bar with one hand, and with the other grasped Ciel. We began to descend at pleasant speed.

"You idiot." Ciel's voice was flat. "When you get to the ground level, how will you open the—"

The whirring of gears, cables, and wind ripped the words from his mouth. He had a point, though. I swung gently from one side to the next, readying myself to force entry. Or exit, as the case were.

I released my hold on the elevator bar, free falling the last ten meters. I timed it just right, if I say so myself. The flimsy metal doors gave way to my kick with a mild amount of noise and resistance, and we somersaulted onto the ground as the elevator plummeted farther below, only to give a deafening crash as the cable finally reached its end.

Ciel, dazed, did not comment.

"The ground floor, young master." I released him and offered a small bow.

I surveyed the surroundings. "Ah." There were no terrorists that I could see, but it certainly was not deserted.

The doors were being blockaded by a ring of men in black uniforms with large plastic shields, looking rather like a foot soldier platoon with plastic gear. I wondered how effective they would be.

I pushed through the glass doors, and collapsed in a heap to dissuade the police from attempting to shoot at us. Ciel obligingly 'noticed' the blood staining my suit, and began to cause a scene.

"Get up!" he shouted. "You can't—"

"Yes, my lord," I murmured. "I will be fine."

Slowly, the people came closer. Even with Ciel's charming performance, the men were cautious approaching us—perhaps Doll and the other child-performer's descriptions had already reached their ears, judging from their hesitation.

I pushed Ciel away. In his bloody costume and stage makeup, he drew all the attention from me. As I wanted it.

While he made all the noise, I looked about. Immediately, I caught a glimpse of a familiar, if pale and drawn, face. A face that didn't belong.

Meanwhile, Ciel, having dismissed my condition as play-acting, called to the policemen. "Inspector Sakamoto! Officer Ohno! It's a terrorist group." He walked forward, stumbling only a little. The people made way for him; he seemed to carry a sort of dignity with him that wouldn't have been out of place in an earl. "Come here." His voice was ragged and hoarse, and he could not shout any further.

Several unfamiliar police, their shields in place and visors down, stiffened at his approach.

But Ciel walked on, limping forward in his confidence, knowing that he would not be shot. Despite the fact that his features and outlandish costume could easily be taken for a circus actor. "It was the performers in _Noah's Arc Circus._ They have people on every floor—" Ciel gasped out, his weak lungs and shock finally making him stumble and fall to his knees.

One of the police rushed forward to support him, with a medic on his heels.

Well. _He doesn't seem to need any help._ I left him to explain the situation.

As though to cover my movement, more and more civilians ran outside, heedless to the, 'Please evacuate calmly' announcement. I took advantage of the ruckus, and sped toward the pale figure before he could duck out of sight.

_Yes. I have you now,_ I thought to myself.

Agares moved like a shadow behind the lines. He stalked between paramedics and police, seemingly unnoticed. It was fascinating, how this weak thing could blend so seamlessly with the environment. How low he can lie. How artless, his game.

Finally, I stepped out before him. "You." I caught him, setting my black nails to tear into his skin. I pulled him roughly to me, stepping close enough to smell the rose-scent on his breath.

He froze.

"You are the challenger."

Agares smiled thinly at that. He met my gaze.

"I'll have you know," I purred. "I resent your meddling."

oOoOoOo

tbc...

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Notes:

(*1) Because I have the circus folk speaking Japanese, what Beast actually says doesn't include pronouns, therefore there wouldn't be any clues to what gender she thinks Ciel is in that line. However, English needs pronouns and we can't drop them, or use a neutral pronoun so…. oh well.

(*) The elevator was inspired by the James Bond movie "Skyfall," though Bond rides it UP. Only Sebastian would dare take it down...

A/N-ish-y Author's challenge. Do you know what Agares name means? ;) (We had this conversation months ago with Carrie...our beta is smart.)

Do you like my action scenes? Are they too fast, too slow, or just right?

OoOoOo


	25. That Challenger, pulling strings

**Thank you **to Carrie for being super and betaing in 24hours after Microsoft Word ate my finalized document. You are the best.

**Thank you** readers, all of you who guessed Agares' identity! Quite a few of you got the hint really~ well. :D

I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. It's been through 3 different rewrites, and the final changes through a pounding headache and a fever. Let me know if there's any typos I missed.

* * *

**Chapter 25:** _The Challenger, Pulling strings_

oOoOoOo

"It isn't against the rules. Hardly affects the choices you made concerning your young…choice," Agares said, his voice cool and his face expressionless.

I reached out and took him by the shoulder, ramming him into a very handy pole (for telecommunications or some such thing. How useful they would have been for capital punishment in the past…you could hang a man at every stone's throw).

"Keep talking." I smiled.

"It would never have been a challenge if I did not. You would never remember this meal otherwise," he muttered, resituating my hand and pressing lightly into my shoulder.

Pain radiated from my wounds. "So the little mouse douses the bait with wine, and puts his greatest weapons on the line." My fingers danced up his arm, and I squeezed his shoulder in return. What would have looked like a friendly gesture hurt him so much that he cried out. "…bureaucracy, social media threats, and…what else could you possibly do?" I squeezed harder and smiled, thinking of his recent actions.

Agares grit his teeth. "You know very well what that child has to offer. You know that his reputation means the world to him. What _I_ can do is hardly of question. I have made him into the—"

"You had nothing to do with that," I murmured. I dropped the smile. "He was beautiful before you touched him with your memory tricks and manipulation."

"Oh?" Agares smiled in sly satisfaction.

"What other damage have you done to Ciel Phantomhive?"

"Little Ciel," Agares repeated. His eyes stopped reflecting in his glasses, and I wondered at his true appearance. Hell can be a confusing place, and the shapes we take there are often misleading.

I shook such musings off. "You have interfered with the pathos of things. You have stretched this encounter long past its natural course. You have sullied the Aesthetics," I charged him.

"Have I done all that?" Agares' smile stretched against his teeth. "But the boy is a stubborn one. He would never have called you. He would never take you, no matter my little games." He stepped aside, redistributing my weight and slipping out of my hold so easily that I suspected he had been toying with me.

The realization was a sour one; this demon was not cobbled. He had no limits on his body here. I stared after him.

"Your aesthetics demand it," I reminded him. "If I am unsatisfied with our game…we should settle it now."

"Dissatisfied? With your own inability to make the Contract?"

I frowned at him.

"If we were to have a duel…" Surely, I thought, his lips twitched there. "It would solve nothing. It would only serve to amuse…" he stopped, corrected himself. "…amuse everyone concerned."

"Do you mean…" I began, but stopped.

While Agares laughed aloud, I felt his presence fade. Not as a spirit, a demon without contract, but the sly, shifting form of a demon moving faster than humans could perceive. Under the cover of a group of paramedics rushing into me, Agares slipped away.

Well. We'd have to settle this later. In my weakened state, I could not follow. The medics put their hands on me, locking me to this place with their determination to 'set me right.' Human hands can constrain one in ways indescribable.

The chance to follow passed, and I finally heard the gabbled words. "You're bleeding," one of them informed me. His voice was calm, slow, and impossible to argue with.

All around us civilians, police and paramedics rushed about. Some insisted on going home straight away (request denied), while other, apparently healthy individuals demanded a private ambulance to the hospital.

"Check for signs of difficulty breathing. Anyone with respiratory problems should seek medical attention. The criminals used pepper spray. If you have trouble breathing or seeing, seek a medical professional," someone intoned. I turned to see a young female officer speaking through a horn that muffled and distorted her voice, but simultaneously carried it farther than an unamplified human's voice ought to be able. I winced at the noise.

"He's in shock," the other one said tersely. I wondered if he were a paramedic or police.

"Sir, you need to come with us," the first one continued. "I'm Suzuki. Let me help you."

The second didn't wait to hear me out. "Can't you see his face? This guy doesn't understand a word you're saying," he said in Japanese. "He-ru-pu. You," he said with a thick Japanese accent, and he proceeded to attempt to get me to rest my weight on him.

I caught his wrist and pushed it away. I stood to my full height and smiled cruelly at the men before me. "I won't be going with you, I'm afraid. Help some of the actual victims. I'm fine," I told them in perfectly polite Japanese. If my eyes glowed a bit too bright, or my teeth were the barest amount too sharp, it couldn't have been helped. The humans were asking for it.

Suzuki frowned. "Sir, all persons with injuries are being treated."

The other one scowled, his temper breaking. "Hey, you. Tell us what you know about whatever's going on inside!"

I rolled my eyes. "Terrorists are trying to prevent people from leaving while they set off gas attacks. I don't know anything else."

Officer He-ru-pu looked at my bloodied shirt, and looked back to Ciel's costume, and dared to take a step closer. "We have some more questions for you sir. If your wounds aren't troubling you—"

Suzuki nodded slightly, and interrupted. "Yes... But he is still bleeding. Here…" he touched my chest, and suddenly I remembered.

"Ah." I looked down at the bloody mess of my shirt, and then I laughed. "Do you think I'm a terrorist? I'm afraid I actually _was_ shot. But what kind of teacher would I be if I let a few injuries keep me from getting an asthmatic student out of a situation like that?"

Suzuki looked at me, impressed. "You're a teacher?"

Officer He-ru-pu snorted.

"The same one who was supposed to be with the fashion show kids, huh? Why didn't you get _all_ of them out?" He said sullenly.

Heedless to my speech, the actual paramedic urged me to sit on his gurney and tore at my shirt. He started visibly at the gunshot wounds. He looked rather funny, and distinctly disturbed. It was laughable.

I smiled pleasantly, keeping my gaze on the other officer.

"Sir, you need to stay very still while we put pressure on the—" he said slowly, firmly.

The other officer fidgeted awkwardly on his feet, alternating between leaning closer to see the details and looking away, embarrassed to realize he insulted a clearly injured man. But he also seemed suspicious. Most humans, after all, couldn't survive wounds like that. "He can't be..."

"Tokyo will end!" A voice interrupted, breaking all of our concentration. Though most native news persons were filming away from the scenes of chaos and (albeit limited) carnage, there was no lack of amateurs holding cellphones to record, and one apparent freelance cameraman. They immediately turned their attention toward the fanatic.

I turned to see a severely bandaged figure surrounded by police, bellowing out his words. "Tokyo will end, and I shall become—"

But news persons were not the only ones in the vicinity. The police quickly mobilized, and he was overcome by a quick moving officer.

He was not so easily deterred. I watched with acute interest as he continued to spew the terrorist's doctrine. "I shall become Father to all those children in the New Tokyo." His voice was as loud as any preacher's, but his face was cast in shadow. "Aaaah, aah," he cried, as handcuffs were forced around his hands.

Was he in pain? The thought made me smile.

"Sir..." the medic Suzuki said, without much force. He seemed momentarily overwhelmed by the situation, panic blocking his training as effectively as anything I might say.

"Quiet." I pulled the shirt back over my wounds distractedly, and looked into the scene. There was a familiar person with flaming red hair about to be taken away, and I had no idea how he'd gotten there. Had so much time passed?

"Father!" Joker, being held tightly by no less than three police, lurched towards the bandaged figure. He was forced to the ground, his face pressed close to the pavement.

Father suddenly stopped, and his scarred, bandaged face split in an approximation of a grin. He stepped free from the officer, and began to laugh, half shaking with his guffaws.

_So he is mad after all._

He spoke with utter conviction. "I wanted to be wrapped in the same darkness as those special, beautiful people. We will change Tokyo, and make them our princess, and I shall be beautiful and dark as that beautiful child—I want to touch him before he becomes as cold and distant as the moon."

Curious. I wonder if the Phantomhives would have any information on this...possibly religious group. Perhaps they could shed light on those enigmatic words.

I was forced out of my reflection as the paramedic started jogging with me still on the gurney. "I need an occlusive dressing! We've got a gunshot victim, three bullet wounds to the torso—" I looked down to see more blood emerging from the wounds. Ah, yes. I needed to get out of sight before the idiots realized my true nature.

"Stop jerking me around," I ordered him, and oddly enough, he did. But not at my words, no, he stopped so he wouldn't run crashing into another blood-soaked figure. I smiled at the small figure in front of me.

"Sebastian." Ciel's voice was hard, and it carried straight to my heart. "What are you doing over there?"

The medic turned to Ciel. "Get out of the way. We need to hurry." At Ciel's look, he tried another tactic. "Do you know this gentleman?" He asked quickly. "He needs immediate medical treatment—"

"What?" Ciel demanded.

There was a small flurry of movements as the three 'servants' from the Phantomhive family caught up with their little master.

Mei-rin and Finnian visibly balked at my wounds, but Bard was more interested in staring me in the eye. Soon he turned away, looking instead to the little child.

"You should be on your way to the hospital," he said gruffly in English. "You need a breathing treatment."

Ciel brushed the comment aside. "What's wrong with him?"

"I am in no need of medical treatment," I interrupted smoothly. "If you could spare me a new shirt, good sir, I will be perfectly all right."

Bard looked at me again, his eyes sharp. In the patchy sunlight, they reflected and clouded like turquoise. In another era, this man might have been... but he was speaking. I turned my attention back to him. "If you've been shot," Bard interjected, "you need to lie down and do what he says." He jerked a finger at the paramedic.

"I'm afraid that is out of the question. It's not as bad as it looks..." I looked to Ciel, wondering if he would back me up.

To my surprise, Ciel did.

"He'll be better off with you and Tanaka." Saving his life might have more benefits than I suspected.

"It is fully within my rights to decline treatment," I remind them, though I was only half sure that that was actually the case.

To accent my point, I stood up from the stretcher, and accepted only a bandage. I tried to drop the bloody mess of bullets as inconspicuously as I could manage, but to no avail. Bard winced.

"This is not a good idea," he grunted. But he willingly lent himself as a walking crutch, and looked irritably at Ciel for instruction.

The unlikely Finnian delivered the plan of action in rapid-fire Japanese. "Ciel, we need to get to the ambulance for you too, you know. We have to be at the hospital so you can recover, and your dad knows where to look for you, and... and all that."

Mei-rin nodded enthusiastically.

"When did you all get here anyways," Ciel whispered, watching the man called Father warily. He seemed more shaken and disturbed by that single man than he had been by a handful of clowns with guns.

"Roof. Special entry permit granted by Tokyo Special Assault Team." The answer was more a reply to "how" rather than "when." It was rather suspicious, I thought, how they could respond to the situation so quickly?

Ciel must have felt so as well, for he raised an eyebrow. "So that's why so many of the performers are down here now..."

Well damn. It seems that all my prospective influence I could have had over Ciel because of my minor role of hero would be overshadowed by these incompetents after all.

Perhaps Ciel would see me favorably in Hospital. After that, there would be words to be had…with the boy, and more importantly, with the demon.

All good things in time.

oOoOoOo

* * *

tbc...

thoughts? This poor sick author would love to know what you think. I'm sure inspiring conversations are good medicine!


	26. His Would-be-Master, Recovering

**A/N:** being sick has its advantages. I have nothing to do but sit around and write. XD So here's an extra thousand words for you...

* * *

HIS MASTER, RECOVERING.

Having finally been transported from the parking lot after the gas attack and installed in the pediatric ward of a very full hospital, Ciel hadn't really expected many visitors yet. He doubted there would be room for visitors. Not to mention, the parents were probably still trying to work out which hospital everyone was being kept in. Unless they used Line… (*1)

Not expecting anyone but the rare nurse to come in with all of the more seriously hurt people to look after, Ciel had been accordingly surprised to see Undertaker pop in. His slow, sudden appearance startled some of the others. Only Violet and Ciel didn't visibly start. Cheslock swore colorfully and actually attempted to get out of bed.

"Hello children. I brought cookies." His sleeves dangled over an old fashioned picnic basket as he scurried from bed to bed, handing each child an individually wrapped cookie shaped like dog biscuits. "And here's one for you, Earl."

"Thank you," Ciel murmured, and looked at the Undertaker with some confusion. "But I'm not an Earl."

Undertaker snickered. "Of course you aren't."

"Oya, Sebastian, I would have thought you'd request a bed next to your young charge. Why hide there in the corner?" Undertaker waved a last bone shaped treat at Sebastian.

Sebastian looked less like a walking corpse now that he had proper bandages and a clean hospital gown. The blood soaked shirt he had been wearing previously was nowhere to be seen. Probably because the gown was not long enough, only Sebastian's faintly stained trousers hinted at significant blood loss.  
"Good afternoon, Undertaker. I wasn't expecting you to show up just yet."

Ciel sighed dramatically. _The nerve of that demon, showing up even in the hospital. He probably gets off on the thought of all the pain and death,_ Ciel thought uncharitably.

For their parts, none of the artists seemed to be surprised at a professor's presence at the department school that day.

"You have some nice bandages there, professor. Did you see more action than faulty pepper spray contraptions, then?" Undertaker's grin was crooked, and his tone was playful. "The media is having a field day, chastising police response, department store security and other…private defenders."

"He was shot. He should be dead. Devil only knows why he isn't," Ciel muttered.

Violet raised an eyebrow, while Soma made a noise in protest before adding, "I heard he carried you out, Ciel."

"Now, now, Soma. Be charitable. He's probably experiencing post traumatic stress disorder. If he's feeling vulnerable and weak, we just have to humor him." Sebastian's lips curled into a sly smile.

Ciel felt heat rush to his cheeks at those words. "Am not!" He barely restrained the urge to stick out his tongue.

"Poor Ciel," Soma crooned, instantly sympathetic, which only made Ciel more irate.

Undertaker snickered. "They do say going about a regular schedule is good for the trauma victim." His thin frame shook with suppressed giggles.

"So I should ignore you and go find something sweet to eat then?" Ciel widened his eyes and gave a tiny smile, playing at the 'sweet kid' everyone should be familiar with.

He was fully aware of Violet's gaze on him.

"So he should ignore us all until we have something interesting to say?" Violet commented blandly.

Cheslock sniggered. "So, Undertaker, we don't have to coddle him then?"

Undertaker's smile was back, and he met Violet's gaze with a few small nods. "Mm. But really, do Phantomhives ignore anything?" He turned to Cheslock. "And you ignore him at your own risk. He can have quite a temper..."

Ciel pretended they weren't baiting him, and turned on the television.

Ciel watched the television with disgusted fascination which was more deservingly fixed on an insect; He was determined to ignore Sebastian's and the Undertaker. Predictably, the station was covering the terrorist attack. Ciel flicked the channels to his preferred news program with English subtitles and sat back to watch.

Ciel turned the volume up, but still heard Soma's energetic denial of Violet's critique of Ciel's behavior in the background. "He doesn't _ignore_ you, he's just...uh, quiet. And sometimes grumpy. But you're grumpier, Violet!"

"…Japanese police and special divisions were quick to respond," the newscaster said gravely.

"Soma, quiet," Violet demanded.

Cheslock loomed over everyone, straining his ears to catch every word.

When the culprit's faces were flashed again, the young artists murmured quietly. Undertaker and Sebastian stopped their conversation.

"Just listen," Undertaker suggested.

"—police have made several arrests, though no names have been released at this time. It seems that several defective aerosol spray dispensers prevented the attack from being much more deadly."

The footage showed an aerial view of the department store, surrounded by police cars, ambulances and fire trucks. The people on the ground looked little more than swarming ants.

A brief scene of the bandaged man and Joker being put into police cars, with officers holding a jacket to hide their faces was briefly shown as the anchor continued. "Only one of the floors was exposed to tear gas, with limited numbers of individuals attacked with pepper spray on the lower floors. Japanese police and special divisions were quick to respond."

The footage switched to an official setting indoors, with members of the police on one side, and media on the other. Along the walls, Ciel noted a familiar figure. Only the top of his head was visible, but Ciel recognized his father, unobtrusively in the back row, seemingly deep in discussion with one of the police.

"Ciel," Violet's voice cut through the murmurs of the fashion students. "Isn't that your dad? In the back." Clever as always, Violet was the first to pick up on a detail Ciel didn't want anyone to notice.

"Oooh, it is, isn't it?" Soma leaned forward. "He's got a lot of connections with the police, Mr. Phantomhive…" he blurted.

Ciel frowned at the two of them, and declined to comment.

"How fortunate that the young Guard Pup was there, eh?" Undertaker crooned. "Really, the response was quite fast. Almost like they had some…information."

"Were you really held captive?" Cheslock asked, ignoring Ciel's silence. "Everyone else was just pepper sprayed. Why the hell were you kidnapped?"

Ciel shook his head, feeling all the blood leave his face. He said nothing.

_Was that man called 'Father' really referring to me and the Phantomhive family, or was that just shock making me read too much into it?_ Ciel shivered under his blanket. He felt Sebastian's eyes like a lead weight while trying to swim to the surface.

His thoughts rang around in his head, each one contradicting the one before it.

_I wonder who was pulling the strings for these terrorists-_

But they couldn't have known I would be there today,

It couldn't have been a coincidence...

How did my dad know to send Bard, Mei-Rin and Finnian?

His eyes slid back to the Undertaker, now talking once more with Sebastian about some mundane school topic.

"I know you're still new, but they really are an amusing lot, these teacher types. Especially Agares. He's quite tame…obedient, really."

Ciel wondered at Sebastian's sudden stillness at that comment, at the subtly long glance he gave the Undertaker.

Something was going on that Ciel couldn't quite understand. Something that involved Sebastian.

_What is going on here?_

* * *

oOoOoOo

(*1)Line, as mentioned back in chapter 10, is a global online messaging service access (primarily) via cellphone or smartphone. You can make groups to contact many people at once, or you can have one on one conversation. It's an app which started in Japan after the 2011 earthquake after people couldn't contact each other because the phone lines were jammed.

Thoughts? :D Comments are better than free-the-chicken soup. :D


	27. His Would-Be-Master, Pleading

**A/N:** Thank you all for the well-wishing (and reviews~ yay~). :) I feel a bit better now. :D In a few days, I should be back to normal.

**Thank you** again to Carrie, my wonderful beta. Her inspirational words (and often funny commentary) is invaluable.

oOoOoOo

* * *

**Chapter 27:** His Would-Be-Master, Pleading.

Sebastian and Undertaker politely waited in the hall, knowing that Ciel was waiting for his father. Sebastian had a particularly surly expression, which the nurses and other patients presumably mistook for discomfort due to his injuries.

"Do you need something, sir? Can I show you back to your room? This is the pediatric ward…" a capable looking nurse said kindly.

"I've already checked out, thank you. I'm waiting for my students' parents to arrive…" Sebastian informed her, giving his best Go-Away smile.

Watching her disappear down the hall, Sebastian mused, "Why does every machine in the hospital have to make noise? In the past, doctors and nurses were expected to do their work stoically and without undue noise so as not to disturb their patience." His furrowed brow the only indication of his annoyance.

"Hmmm…I believe someone just died three floors down…" Undertaker sounded almost wistful.

Sebastian sighed, and resumed eavesdropping.

* * *

oOoOoOo

After a time, the hospital room slowly emptied. Around the room, students slept or played with their phones while three adults wandered in and out of the room. Ciel tried to relax. He tried to sleep, or to answer the dozens of text messages he'd received in the past few hours, but it was all in vain.

Phantomhive certainly did _not_ twiddle his thumbs or otherwise wait anxiously. Nevertheless, he found himself chewing his lip and eying the edge of the hospital curtains while he waited for his father to arrive.

_Curtains_ Ciel thought, _are a poor imitation of privacy._ Somewhere, a clock ticked the seconds away.

"You need to eat. Sugar or something." Bard poked his head through said curtains, his friendly smile beguiling his special unit uniform/lab coat combo.

"Thanks Bard. But, um, you know you can wait— or go to work or whatever— in the hallway." Ciel pulled a face.

Of the three "servants," Bard, received the most wary glances from the steadily dwindling number of students. Finnian, with his baby face and hair barrettes was taken for a friendly rookie, while Mei-rin was overlooked once she had her civilian clothing and glasses on. Bard, however, even wearing a lab coat (probably pilfered), looked like a mad, battle hardened field doctor.

"Everyone thinks you're _on guard_ or something. Like you expect a crazy, tear-gas wielding terrorist to attack here next. You're making them nervous."

"Psha, if Undertaker isn't scaring them, _I_ won't." Bard grinned at Ciel as though they were sharing a joke.

Ciel stared gloomily back, wishing his family's weird hiring practices hadn't been made known to all of his peers.

A golden head pushed through the curtains. "Ciel!" Finnian called, delighted. "Did you hear?" As he trampled the curtains in efforts to get closer, Bard stepped out of the way, unhooked a bit of fabric, and drew the curtains back to prevent something falling on Ciel.

"Dad's been cleared to come up. Yeah. I heard. That doesn't mean he'll be here anytime soon," he replied, but his expression softened a little at Finny's look.

Outside of the room off in the "designated waiting area," if Ciel's sense was correct, there was a loud hissing noise, followed by someone (sounding suspiciously like Bard) letting out a manly shriek. Several things fell over, and finally, the patients' ward opened again, with heavy footsteps leading directly toward Ciel.

Bard pushed past Finnian, bearing a soot-blackened metal tray with what could only be a Bard Special Dessert. "I made chocolate marshmallows!"

"With what—a blow torch?" Ciel scoffed.

"Er, yes." Bard offered Ciel a shapeless glob. "No?" He grinned boyishly. "Well, the good news is, you're father's coming."

Finnian made a face at the treat. "I think the chocolate's burnt…" he said with dismay, but he picked up one of the lumpy things—only to quickly toss it from hand to hand. "Owwww, it's hot. Ciel wait a minute for it to cool down," he advised.

Mei-rin trotted over at the commotion. "What's hot?" she asked, stepping right into another patient's bed. As she tumbled, her feet got caught on the wires, which in turn got caught on the bedsheets. Something began to whirr and beep angrily. Mei-rin, of course, panicked. "Are you ok?" she demanded anxiously of the patient.

Said patient, a girl from a different school, laughed outright. "Oh, you unplugged the IV and it's annoyed now. Just hook that bit there—"

Mei-rin looked at the things in chagrin. "I'm sorry!"

Finny started to run over to help, but Bard shook his head. "That nurse has got it. Just relax."

A few minutes later, Vincent arrived and was sitting on the edge of Ciel's bed. "So, what's this about you wanting private treatment at home?"

"I…I know I need more breathing treatments, or they'll stick me in an oxygen tent so I don't get pneumonia or something, but…" Ciel steeled himself. "I want to go home. And get someplace before those crazy terrorists or anyone else guesses where we're staying."

Vincent gave Ciel a measuring look. "You…heard…what that man called 'Father' was saying."

Ciel glanced away, unable to hold his father's gaze. "He pointed at me. He said something about…covering himself in darkness or something. Like 'that boy.' He recognized me even in girls clothes, when the rest of the country is convinced I'm a girl."

Vincent looked like he might interrupt, but Ciel rushed on.

"He knows me, or about you, probably." Ciel's voice did not shake, and his hands did not waver, but his weak, breathless tone betrayed his fear. "He knew about…don't you know him? I heard his name was Tom Kelvin." (*1)

"Ciel. There's no evidence that the attack was anything more than what it seemed—a terrorist attack by fanatics. You were…captured before the attack was meant to begin. It doesn't mean their whole plan was to get _you._" Vincent took Ciel's hand and squeezed it. Ciel looked at him unhappily. "You shouldn't allow yourself to get so worked up."

"_Someone_ knew I'd be there, father, or someone set it up so that I'd go. Maybe someone in this room. Maybe someone from school," Ciel added darkly. "I want to go somewhere they won't guess for a while." Ciel's other hand clenched at the sheets.  
Vincent searched his son's eyes for a moment, judging Ciel's words and state of mind. "All right. We can leave Tokyo, Ciel. But we can't exactly put you in hiding." Vincent shook his head. "No, it's better for you psychologically to go back to school. I'll keep an eye out on you there, and you can talk to the school counselor." Vincent put a hand on Ciel's shoulder as he stood. "No one will get to you. Probably anyone involved with the plot was already arrested today."

"Father, someone knew I'd be there. They now where I am now, and they'll know where I live and go to school. We have no guarantees that even _half_ the terrorists were caught."

"Ciel, you can't live your life in fear. We have many qualified people looking out for you."

"It didn't help mother," Ciel hissed the words, barely daring to even whisper that statement. At his father's stony silence, he went on. "Those 'qualified people' didn't keep _Sebastian_ away."

"Not that again," Vincent muttered. "I'm looking into his background and I have a new agent at the school," Vincent murmured, barely vocalizing the words at all. Probably, he was counting on the fact that Ciel would read his lips. "You'll get treatment near your school and you'll go back on Tuesday, possibly Wednesday at the latest."

A loud noise interrupted the staring contest between father and son. Mei-rin, Bard, and Finny stood awkwardly at the door. Mei-rin carried a file in hand, and a black bag that Ciel recognized as his father's business materials.

"Eh-he-he…"

They awkwardly made their way into the room. "Master Phantomhive! It's been a long day. You must be tired," Mei-rin muttered.

Bard saluted. "We've gathered the proper sign-out materials and gotten a release form ready. Please stamp your seal in the lower left corner, and we shall deliver it! Sir!"

Vincent rolled his eyes. "Yes, it seems you've all been ready to go for a while now. Let me see the papers." He looked them over, and then glanced around the room.

"Master Phantomhive?" Finny murmured. "I found Ciel's bunny in your bag, so I kinda took him out, and we thought Ciel would like to have it, so…" he tossed something small and fluffy through the air.

Ciel stared as it landed on his bed. It was a very old plush toy…the first Ciel had made on his own. Tentatively, he touched its paw, then the long ears. He picked it up, testing the weight.

When he looked up at Vincent, his father was looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Um. Finny, don't you mean to say you brought it with you…?"

Ciel looked on, ignoring the question. "You kept it. I thought it was thrown away or lost…"

Vincent turned faintly pink. "Yes. I did." Then he turned back to the servants. "Ok, we need to call the nurse to get you ready to check out."

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OoOoOo

tbc...

Thoughts?

There's at least 3 chapters left. Feel free to remind me of stuff I've forgotten about / things you want to see before the story closes~! :)


	28. That Butler, Undecided

**Thank you** to Carrie for the beta! Thank you readers for comments! :D And thank everyone for watching, favoriting, and generally liking this story. It means a lot to me.

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**That Butler, Undecided.**

(Sebastian)

The demon Agares had momentarily escaped my wrath when he disappeared that day before the police. Now that Ciel had been relocated, I kept mulling over the situation with the other demon. _He will feel the full ramifications of manipulating the challenge beyond its normal boundaries, and he will retract his influences over Ciel,_ I vowed.

Until then, there were other things that occupied my mind. Ciel had been contemplating the fanatical "Father" rather more than I expected him to, and his dear papa had taken him back to the Phantomhive abode.

But there was no time for sweet talk and games of wit. There was only a week left before the challenge ended. I could make Ciel mine with honeyed kisses and strong hands, of course, but I could use another piece as easily. The night was dark.

I considered long, and then I acted.

Three small bodies curled in amongst each other, lying on top of cardboard boxes they'd dragged in to the abandoned construction site. Standing out of range of the electric street lamp that flickered as I gazed on, I remembered a simpler time. A time when all of humanity lived like cattle to be herded and hunted when I was young, and I thought that all the bodies must surely hide the souls that got away. So new the world, so green, I could not comprehend that there were so _many_ more of them than there ever were of us. And their companionship. Like these three (seemingly) children, lying side by side. I would rouse them, the hunt would begin.

They would show me that human _loyalty_ was only for good times. For peaceful times.

_Creeeeeek._ The noise was drawn out like a groan. My prey looked up, wide eyes luminescent in the dim light even as the others ran.

_Pitter patter, the mice do scatter._

The hunger was on me.

I watched the remainder of the circus troupe grasp at each other and run in fear through the night. This night, wherever they walked would be the devil's playground.

Their voices rose and fell, urgency, anger and fear mixing in a cacophony, which disguised the way the children run. Doll was soon left behind, but I paid the pair no mind. I understood that Wendy and Peter's loyalty was only for each other, while Doll was only their expendable teammate. Just so. Human loyalty was a fickle thing. They would reason Doll to be "less of a loss, really," than Joker, Beast and Jumbo had been.

"Wendy, hurry up!" Peter called, desperate.

"I—" she gasped, out of words, and ever quiet.

Something hit the ground, and they left my sight for the deeper darkness. No matter; I ignored their desperate words and swift feet. They were not my prey.

Doll quivered in fear even as I stepped lightly to the ground, emulating the rope-walker's landing pose. She could appreciate it.

"No," Doll whimpered, shaking her head. She tried on a brave face, but it faltered.

"What is your wish, Doll?" I kept my voice low and honeyed. I bent down and grasped her face. A single eye, large and bright eye stared up at me.

"Wha…what are you?"

Strange how similar her eyes were to his. Hers were more sad, or perhaps more worldly. Ciel's eyes were brighter. _Hers are the color of stone._ She recognized me for what I am in an instant. But she still asked. _Ah, there is sullied innocence. A parody of childhood._ My lips twitched.

I ignored the question. "If you pay a price, I will serve you most loyally." I toyed with her hair, which (even in her present circumstances,) she carefully styled to hide her scar. Vanity, or shame, I couldn't say. Human emotions could be so subtle, so fickle.

"Or would you rather I free your Father?" I smiled a long, knowing smile.

"Don't speak his name." Doll shivered and pulled away. "You're not dead. But they shot you and you still moved." She shook her head. "You're not dead."

I looked down at her, huddled in dirty, nondescript clothes and wondered what Ciel would have done in her place. Bereft of his cause, separated from his family. Failed. Abandoned. Would he bend?

My fingers brushed her cheek light as the wind. "You're not fit to be on your own, Doll. Don't you want Father or Joker back to take care of you?" I played off of her insecurities, reminding her of the only parental figures she knew.

I held out a hand to pull her to her feet, gently holding her in place. She trembled and quivered in a way that Ciel didn't. Wouldn't.

And yet they seemed so similar in some aspects…dependent on others, soft and caring. I suppose she was a reflection of what Ciel _could_ have been rather than of what he _was._ But does this scarred girl have the same steely resolve that attracted me so?

"What…price?" She whispered, and wet her lips. "I don't have any—"

I put a hand on her jaw and closed her mouth. I turned her head in the direction Peter and Wendy went. "Not much," I murmured, and handed her a knife.

_If it were Ciel, he'd turn it on me,_ I thought even as the girl dropped the knife, recoiling.

"Now, now. It's not the time to pretend at being a good little girl." I bent down and pointed the knife at her. "They abandoned you. Father," I whispered, "would be unhappy with them. Furthermore, he would bestow the greatest honors on you for freeing him."

Never mind she wouldn't live an hour past the man's release. Doll wouldn't think to make a deal that would preserve her life longer.

Ciel would guess. He would ask me to make Father's plans _work_. He would command me like a general.

I turned the knife around, offering her the hilt.

She wavered. A part of me wanted to lean in—to mark her with my contract. But…I also felt contempt for her easy, simple desires. I was bored with the same old chase.

_Use this. Make the deal,_ I told myself. With a surge of conviction, I picked the little thing by the scruff of her neck as one would a kitten (or rather, I grabbed her clothes.) Her high pitched scream would set Wendy and Peter faster. We would flush them out.

My feet touched on the road once, then we leapt again.

Close. Very close. I could smell their fear and traces of the tear gas.

I dropped the girl when I caught sight of them, supporting her just long enough to keep her from breaking a leg.

She cowered into the ground as I hovered above her. I lunged to frighten her in the right direction. She skinned her knees to get away.

In the distance, water dripped somewhere. That detail distracted me from the symphony of their racing hearts and the beating of their feet.

The hunger was on me again, clawing at me with tooth and nail. I might have laughed, I might have smiled at that moment, as I imagined those

deep blue eyes  
staring out of a youthful face.

But below me, there was only the girl, half sobbing, clutching the knife as I herded her after the others.

To make the contract, she must become the hunter, and yet… I no longer thought her capable of the act. A sour taste filled my mouth. She was not my first choice, and she did not summon me. She did not name me.

The thrill of the chase faded away, and I clamped down on my hunger.

Enough.

I stepped down in front of the girl just as her fear was finally turning to anger. She struck out blindly.

I frowned in annoyance. _Humans._ I gave her my second gift by tossing the bag (which contained a bit of money and a change of clothes) directly at her chest.

"Pay the toll and call my name. If I'm in the mood, I'll come." I had no more words for her.

The moon was upon us, casting my face in blue-ish shadows that made my face unearthly. Marked me as different from anyone she had ever met. The wind was like a lover, casting its hands through my hair and rippling my clothes. I observed her without a twist of the lips.

And yet she trembled.

I withdrew.

"Your name?" Doll gasped out, all that adrenalin made her hands shake.

"Sebastian Michaelis."

I had other things to do that night. The challenge could be won yet.

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OoOoOo

Tbc…

A/N: I know the tone of this chapter changed quite a bit from previous chapters, but it is to remind the reader of Sebastian's nature.

That said… do you have any thoughts on his nature?


	29. That Teacher, Scheming

**Thank you **to Carrie for your phenomenal encouragement, and your beta-ing skills~~ (many a funny typo has been laughed at, hehe.)

**Thank you** everyone who reads and reviews- you are the best reason to keep writing. Favorites and follows are wonderful encouragement too, so thanks everyone else also!

oOoOoOo

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**CHAPTER 29:** _That Teacher, Scheming._

The final work-week opened with a dawn that was as glorious as it was bitter. The news channels were filled with follow-up information on the department store terror-attack, and despite fears of attendance drops and angry parents, the school day began with all its usual mishaps.

Grey eyed me as I stepped into the Staff Room, his gentlemanly features schooled into a carefully blank expression. "Are you really feeling better?" he asked, cutting directly to the chase.

I glanced at him for the barest of a moment before letting my lips twitch upward. "I shall endure."

The teachers surrounding our desks turned their heads to observe the two of us. I had been given "sick days" for the two days previous, and I used the time to find Doll and the others. Once back, I was met with open astonishment as I sat down at my desk.

"Don't you think…" Mr. Nakamura began, his voice firmer and filled with more passion than I'd come to expect from him. "…you ought to stay home the entire week? You were injured."

I of course offered only a small smile in reply to that. There was nothing else to say.

Grey decided to explain for me. "Mr. Michaelis is intent on showing the children that even a national incident will not keep them down if they choose. He is able to walk for a few hours, I am sure? So he will continue bravely with routine and set an exemplary…example," he declared.

I merely continued smiling. Oh, there could be that 'exemplary behavior.' And there could be a certain demon that needed talking to.

"That is wonderful!" Someone else added, erupting into a broad grin.

"You are a superb teacher, Michaelis. We are happy to have you."

"I hope you won't take on too much at a time. Be sure to rest. What's your schedule? We can perhaps rearrange the classes today so you can go home at noon…? Or is resting in-between classes better?"

Grey happily started to peddle his (ever grander) opinion of the matter, and set about convincing everyone of whatever schedule changes he wanted to see happen.

I ignored him and looked over toward the Vice Principal's desk. Strangely, Agares was nowhere to be seen. Only the Japanese Vice Principal (the one with whom I had very little to do) stood at attention. I glanced at the announcements board, and saw printed very clearly, that Agares was slated for a 'business trip' at a station far to the west of here.

"Perhaps a free afternoon would be best," I interjected. "As for my schedule, I have only four classes today…" and Ciel Phantomhive was in one of them. Fresh from his stay at the family manor, he'd be eager to see me. "Would this suffice?" I pushed a card to Grey, who looked startled to have his suggestions followed.

"Very good," he admitted. "If you could have a look—" and the card was passed around and agreed to as the meeting began. The other teacher's accepted this schedule change without even the slightest reluctance, so I would be seeing Ciel sooner than either of us anticipated.

_Ah. So heroics have their benefits after all. _

.  
The classrooms were alive with activity.

Presumably, the homeroom teacher, Mr. Nakamura, had informed them of the schedule change, and so there was no confusion as to why I was there. Instead, I was subject to whispers of adolescent awe and pity echoing even into the hallway.

"Ciel, is it true? Did he really save you?" Someone stood up in their rush to ask first. There was a slight fluttering as most of the class turned to observe the exchange.

Ciel was silent. He held his hands close, that one.

"What were you doing in that dress, anyway?"

"How come you got to participate in the senior fashion show? That is _so_ not fair!"

"If Professor Michaelis rescued me, I think I could die happy."

"Idiot, if you died, there wouldn't be anything good about saving you!"

The sudden hush that welcomed me when I opened the door was telling. The children looked upon me with something bordering on respect.

"Good morning," I greeted them. I pressed on without waiting for a response. "We have progressed farther than the other history classes, and as our esteemed Mr. Grey has not finished the plans for the museum trip, it is unlikely that we will need to press on at a hurried place. We have two options."

The students looked up in interest.

"We can either discuss recent events, or we can play a review game. I leave the decision to you. You have 20 seconds to decide." I took out my pocketwatch and appeared to be watching it for that time. I'm quite sure Ciel realized I was really watching him. "Let's have a show of hands. Review game?"

Predictably, few hands were raised. Ciel had his hands crossed over his chest in a defiant manner.

"Discussion?" Ciel still did not raise his hand. The majority, however, did.

"Very well." I turned around and began writing a sample of the English and Japanese headlines from the newspapers.

While I wrote, the students watched on in expectant silence. It was, perhaps, the quietest discussion I've heard amongst students.

"Attack on Shopping Mall"  
"New Gas Attack Shocks Tokyo"  
"Suspects of the Shopping Mall Gas Attack Caught"  
"Hundreds in Japan Hunt Gas Attackers"  
Department Store Tear Gas Incident (デパート催涙ガス事件)  
No Deaths in Department Store Incident (デパート事件で死者が出ていない)

When I turned around, they were attempting serious, adult-like faces. One or two of the students looked scared. The others looked eager (in spite of their good postures, their stiff-upper-lips).

"If you expect me to hold a discussion by asking you questions," I said, descending among them in a few quick steps, "please reconsider your assumption."

There were a few chuckles at that, but I paid them no mind. Junior high and high school students will laugh at almost anything remotely amusing a teacher says.

I don't let it bother me.

"Sir?" Someone asked. Watanabe, his hands trembling as he thought through his words. In the few weeks I'd been teaching them, this one in particular had his English ability improve…perhaps games and cruel machine demonstrations (all with the 'teeth' removed, of course…) were good for him. "How are we discussing then?"

I nodded. "I will be the moderator. Each person should give at least two remarks, even if it is only to agree with what is already said, and justifies that you understand the content."

Uneasy silence followed. "We don't want to be graded, sir," Ciel's little hanger-on, McMillan, mumbled.

"I recommend asking questions of your classmates. 'What do you think such-and-such means?' or 'If you were so-and-so…' Those starter questions should be just enough for us."

"Can you give us an example?" One of the breathless girls asked.

"If you had seen the terrorists before their plan was set in action, what would you have done? And how would you have evaded capture?" My eyes did not stray from the young woman. Most students would think this meant I saw only her, but Ciel, ah, Ciel. He knew I was observing him.

There was the expected minute of silence as the children digested this, discovered that _no,_ I was not going to volunteer an answer, and started looking at one another. They met each other's gazes awkwardly, mediating the space between silence with children's graceless frowns and shifty movements.

Finally, a girl spoke up. She was a prim little thing, eager to follow instructions and a good student, but with a desire for the unnatural, the unusual, that I could smell on her.  
"I'd have pretended to be on the phone. Walked to the ladies' room or someplace out of earshot, and called the police."  
A boy immediately disagreed. "No, you wouldn't call the police. You wouldn't be sure. You would call your friend, wouldn't you?" Watanabe again. He seemed rather disagreeable today.

The girl blushed. "Well. Maybe. And then _she_ would have—"

"And the bathroom." Another girl looked aghast at her classmate. Mary, the girl with flawless Japanese and a strange, blended accent of every-and-no country for English. "What if they followed you? What if you got trapped?"

There were nervous giggles as the young realized how little they knew. Their safe school-world had been invaded by reality, and part of that reality housed terrorists. There would be no silence after this—they would chatter to fill it up, to keep their minds from wandering to the horrific scenes from their imaginations, from so-called horror films.

Finally, when they'd exhausted their ideas about the bathroom and cellphone usage, the students turned curious gazes on Ciel. _He_ after all, _had_ seen the terrorists, and gotten caught for all the good it did him.

"How did you get away?" Someone asked, quiet as a mouse. He was afraid of the answer. "I heard you were locked in a room and tied up."

Ciel, bored, peered out from behind his fringe. "The police gave a statement to the news people. I don't have to, or want to, talk to the press about it," he said primly.

"But we're your _class_mates." McMillan insisted, sounding hurt. "And aside from that, what if someone else gets kidnapped? Wouldn't they need to know how to—"

"It was dumb luck!" Ciel shouted. "Who else would be caught by a dangerous group and tied up? Just don't go do stupid things like getting drunk on your own, or even with some senior classmen. Don't put yourself in dangerous situations. _That's_ how you get out."

The sheer volume of his response startled most of the class into reflective silence. Some of the girls looked at Ciel with admiration. Others with a small amount of pity. The boys were looking at him blankly—and a few with outright irritation. Those boys, perhaps, decided they were entitled to more information…? Well.

"Was it through the air-ducts?"

Ciel cast an irritated glance at the boy. "Have you ever seen something like that in a Japanese department store?" He demanded. "Those things only exist in places that need servicing areas. Not spare rooms for staff."

They contemplated this. "So…you can pick locks?"

Ciel rolled his eyes. "They didn't notice it's meant as one of those meeting rooms. The kind you can unlock and turn into huge meeting areas if needed—like the seminar hall above the library. Flexible walls," he admitted.

"Then how'd you get out of the ropes?"

Ciel looked abashed. "Er. I didn't. Professor Michaelis…."

Ah, if hero worship were enough to sustain a demon…. I only smiled. "The ingenuity of the situation lies entirely with Mister Phantomhive. I am only one hell of a teacher, after all."

Their smiles were radiant. I had to laugh.

"Upperclassman Violet said you were targeted specifically." Mary again. She wore her expressions on her sleeve breathed. She was half terrified Ciel would shout at her, half full of admiration.

"The so-called Circus Troupe didn't know who I was," Ciel said dismissively. He had his doubts, though, about the ring-leader, and maybe one more. Joker, perhaps? But Ciel wasn't done thinking about this. He said no more about it.

The rest of the discussion focused on the media's interpretation, and the students' own perception of events, though no one thought of it as such. The children were unaware of Ciel's disdainful gaze, his shaken confidence. They didn't notice if my attention was only ever half on them. I can, after all, play my cards quite well.

Ciel would sit in the classroom and think about his powerlessness. Patience. A well-played hand would yet bring him into the contract.

* * *

oOoOoOo

tbc...

Don't forget to let me know if there's anything you'd like to see before the end- I know I keep extending it, but it's 'cause great reviewers keep having fun conversations with me. XD So we are now up to 31 chapters total and an epilogue! :D

So~ thoughts?


	30. A Colossal Joke

**Warnings: **silverware. :D

Thank you to Carrie for your phenomenal support on this one. (nod, nod)

Thank you readers for chatting with me! Your cheerful reviews, PMs, and replies kept me working on this despite feeling poorly. I hope you like the results! A few more questions answered...a bit more action. Enjoy!

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**A COLOSSAL JOKE**

Agares, it seems, was a man who enjoyed fine dining. Tonight he planned to dine with the most influential upperclassmen, as a sort of 'etiquette lesson.' Ever a stickler for the fine details, however, he should be setting the table himself.

Ah, yes. The afternoon's search was not wasted. From his so-called school related function, I had little clues. So I'd spent the extra hours researching Agares' habits, preparing for my next move.

The hall was beautiful, in a mundane, human kind of way. The glass windows were polished to shine, and the lights neither too bright (as in school), or too dark (as in the medieval ages, where a demon could stand behind you without a person ever noticing…). The table was long, with six places set at generous positions. It would make a lovely impression, with the dark stained woods and softly shining glasses.

Agares froze in step, holding the centerpiece by the tips of his fingers. Ah. So he noticed at last.

"Good evening, Agares. Please excuse the intrusion." I sketched a bow, but beguiling my polite words, my hands spoke another purpose. I had a handful of knives and forks at the ready.

Agares offered a thin smile, but before he said anything, he positioned the great heap of flowers. "I wasn't expecting you, Professor Michaelis." That he should pretend we were so cordially related amused me.

Whether or not he was willing to fight, I certainly was. "Agares. It's time for a reckoning." I ran at him at a rush, flinging forks in his direction at a speed no human could dodge.

Agares leaned out of the way, dodging all but one missile. He really _was_ clumsy, it seemed. Or was this too, some sort of calculation? But now that the fight has begun, he gave a counter-attack of his own. Rather than take a piece from his artwork (the table), he rolled forward, lunged into a rather-awkward-looking kick, and swung around at my heels.

But I had already moved. Unlike the fight at the department store, I had no human obstacles to work around, and no contractee to protect. I too leapt, tucking my feet under me and spinning gracefully. Three more knives marked Agares, though none of them sank in.

"Tell me, Agares. How do you find living in this soft world with no tempting prize awaiting the end of your trials?" I teased.

"It is time better spent than languishing in the depths of hell." Agares snorted. "Sloth is frowned upon in any circle."

My eyes flashed at that. "Well. It sounds as though someone has been working too much overtime…" When I took a handful of utensils from his arrangement, only then did he really start to look pained.

"Put those back," he demanded. He caught each one in as I flung it toward his face, and his hands bled merrily for it.

With a wide grin, I reached for the flower arrangement. Its ceramic base had quite the feel to it. "Take it off," I demanded.

"Michaelis." His tone was not friendly. Distracted, he asked, "Take _what_ off?"

"Your spell." I tossed the arrangement experimentally from one hand to the next, testing its weight.

"Oh." He gave a long suffering smirk. "Little Ciel's memory?" He purred. "He could break something as simple as that on his own…if you gave him proper motivation." He tsked, even though he desperately wanted me to unhand his precious display, he shook his head.

I gave no tells. I would take him in a rush, running instead of tossing it as he expected. My feet were taking me toward my objective when a voice hailed me from an unexpected corner.

"What's taking so long? Little Ciel got cold feet?" And there he was. Like a king on his throne, or a jester playing at the crown.

He sat at the cushy armchair at the very head of the table, wearing a silly hat that hid half of his face. In one hand, he held a pot of something sweet and sickly smelling. In the other, he toyed with a clump of that ungainly silver hair.

I stopped; flowers still in hand, and asked it of him. "What _are_ you eating?" I threw the flowers without even looking at Agares. A satisfying _umph_ reached my ears.

Undertaker snickered.

I stepped closer to the pair of them, relishing in the simple sound of my heels clacking against the floor. This game could still be mine. "You've come to face the charges?" I demanded of him.

Undertaker frowned. "Hello to you too, Sebastian. Come to give me a good laugh? I'm sure I have some information you'd be _quite_ interested in…." Ah, yes. Undertaker was ever fond of his games.

I shook my head, and hid a knife behind a gloved hand. "I'm afraid the terms of the challenge on which I came into the world were made in ill faith. They violate the basic aesthetics."

Agares didn't smile or make his presence unduly overbearing. Rather, he frowned in the way most headmasters do. He seemed to count on the typical student reaction to authoritarian disapproval— subdued obedience with a hint of regret. He fair looked down his nose at me.

I threw my knife, but he had the good sense to dodge.

He continued as though nothing happened. "The terms were simple, Sebastian Michaelis. You were to choose a soul—any soul—and tempt it into a contract within one month. Simple, really. Why you haven't accomplished such a _basic_ thing is, I must confess, beyond me."

Undertaker, lounging in his chair, spoke up. "He named you, didn't he?" His green eyes peered out from under the top hat. It was an eerie picture.

"It's not those terms which offend, Agares."

He wavered in his posture, seeming unwilling to attack me while I accused him. Odd man.

"It's the unnatural nature of your. . .involvement with a God of Death." I took two more steps closer to the pair. "Whose idea was it _really_ to Challenge me?" I allowed my tone to stay even as propriety demanded. As the accuser, I could afford such niceties.

"Undertaker. What claim do you have on the demon before me? _Why_ did you challenge me?"

The silence stretched between us.

Undertaker quivered with his amusement. A tiny laugh escaped his lips.

"Ah, but…it seemed like fun, Sebastian. And admit it, you're enjoying yourself… That little brat has you wrapped around his finger!" His laughter rang against the decorated room. "Who would have thought you such a masochist…"

I frowned.

"Just imagine what you could do in my service…!" His grin stretched against his skull. "Or will you win after all? Which would be more amusing?" Here, he smiled and stood.

I was uninterested in his comments. "Rogue Reaper. What is your purpose here?"

"To understand life. And to have a good laugh…" He toyed with his hair and summoned his weapon to his hand. A Buddhist wooden grave…stick…marker… (I'm not sure even the humans know its true purpose, after all…). Lazily, he tossed it in my direction.

I dodged his missile with ease. "I have been named by a human boy. He accepts his position to order me," I tried. I could discover more about my true adversary after the terms of this charade of a contest was finished, after all.

"But he does not bear your mark." Undertaker pointed his wooden grave marker at me. He offered his thin, crooked smile. His eyes shone a more vivid yellow-green this night than ever before. "It was foolish of you to not form the contract when he ordered you."

I snorted and dismissed his words. "A contract must be forged in very specific circumstances, or chosen in understanding of what the demon asks. Twisting his words goes against my aesthetics. He must choose his damnation on his own…" I smiled grimly. "But I could always lay a trail for him to follow." I revealed a handful of knives, flinging them one at a time for him to catch with that supple grave marker.

"Oh?" Undertaker snickered. "A trail of breadcrumbs?"

"Which," I dodged a poorly timed blow from Agares—he really has no balance—and showed my teeth. "I still intend to do."

Agares ran straight into my trap. He was caught with both arms momentarily paralyzed with a well-applied blow, and I took the opportunity to push him down face first to just the right height, and kicked him viciously in the head.

"Aa!" Agares wailed, and I took his hesitation as an opportunity to jerk him up by the hair.

"You have no say in whether I win or not, do you Agares?" I purred. "How far you've fallen." I didn't bother hiding the disdain in my voice.

"You gain nothing by hurting me," he growled, and blood dripped into his mouth.

Undertaker laughed and laughed. "Nice show, gentlemen." He clapped his hands together, and all of the spent grave markers disappeared. The dining hall, however, remained in shambles.

"Now, we have a dinner to begin in exactly thirty minutes. Why don't you get a promise out of Agares, hm? And be on your way." Undertaker made a shooing motion with his hand.

"I _won't_ trouble Ciel," Agares said through gritted teeth.

I released him. As he fell, I swiped a bit of the blood from his forehead and had a taste. There was nothing strange about the texture or flavor after all. "I accept your promise," I said.

He nodded stiffly, collecting his balance from the floor.

"If you should go back on your word…" I smiled, and his blood shown on my white teeth, "then we shall have more than words, Agares the Damned. Agares the Aged. Agares, Duke of Eastern Hell. I name you, and thus claim right to a reckoning at a later date."

There's power in such words. And with him, bound in some way to the Undertaker, he had no defense against the blood rites either. Undertaker has made no claim on his vital fluids—the thought amused me to no end—and so he was unlikely to break our promise.

I wondered, _Is he more or less bound than I have ever been with my human masters? To think…being bound to a master who will not die. But Undertaker's entire existence may be…something similar to a human soul? Or not at all?_ I had never considered the nature of a Reaper before. However the Challenge turned out, I could always rip him into pieces and have crows devour his heart later.

Undertaker's laughter brought me out of my reverie. "Tick-tock, tick-tock. Best you go try and win the heart of the young Phantomhive."

I gave him a nod. "Of course. Please excuse me."

I left them there in that darkened room, and would not think of the cleanup I left in my wake.

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tbc...

Thoughts?


	31. A Doll with Strings

Thank you for reading, reviewing, favoriting, watching, and clicking.

**Thank you **Carrie for being such a nice support! I appreciate it.

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**Chapter 31:** A Doll with Strings

(Ciel)

Suddenly, the light dimmed. Thinking that a cloud had simply passed before the sun, Ciel ignored that fact and kept working on his latest creation. That is, until there was a scraping noise and soft thump at the window.

Unease made his stomach lurch, but he resolutely kept his gaze at his desk. The boy bit his lip, worrying at the finishing touches on a tuft of mohair. The fabric was bulkier than he had imagined when he picked it out, so he thought he might need to streamline the costume design…

A resigned cough finally drew his attention. Sebastian, as he half expected, was at the window. This time, the demon was inexplicably hanging upside down with a sour look on his face. He gestured at his pocket watch.

It was too much. Ciel didn't know what Sebastian wanted, but he doubted he'd enjoy the venture. _So far, following Sebastian's lead has led to public humiliation, corporal punishment, abduction, and no small amount of irritation. Like hell I'll sit around and wait for the demon to introduce some new complication._

Ciel bolted. His feet flew under him as he headed down the hallway— until Ciel noticed his classmates staring— and then he skidded to a more leisurely gait. His heart raced in his chest, and he found himself seeking solitude near the only informant in the school. (_My dad's informant,_ he reluctantly thought.) He headed for _The Swan_, eager to get some answers.

Overeager in his hopeful contemplation, Ciel grinned as he opened the door. "Undertaker…" he started to call out, but the name faded away to a dull murmur.

Undertaker was nowhere in sight.

The café bustled on without him, students chattering at their tables, oblivious as ever to the complex events going on around them. Ciel was about to go to the counter, perhaps to order something as a precaution against being spirited away again "for tea." But someone caught his eye—an uneasiness that made his back sting and his throat constrict. So he looked up.

One of the circus workers was there. She stood by the window, the afternoon light making even her clothes seem less common, more like the ethereal costume she wore on that day. Ciel felt steadily worse as unease changed to nervous dread. _I feel ill. Even if I can't control my body, though, I can still play the game._

Doll observed Ciel carefully, watching him as only the damned could, and her single visible eye was trained only on him. She seemed to make up her mind, and she walked forward with a boyish sort of bluster that would have surprised him.

Ciel walked forward.

The Phantomhive boy made no sign of fear, and when he wished, he could stand taller than the rest; he would stand at ease in the power he would one day hold—he would be (as his father was) cool, contemptuous, condemning. All the world would bend to the child's demands, raging, calculated though they might be. So he arrogantly hoped.

So it was that Ciel cut across the lobby to stop before her, heedless of the eyes of his classmates.

"Doll." He looked on past her, and there one could see how her presence struck him. All thoughts of Sebastian with his comical 'dissatisfied' expression in the window fled.

Doll leaned away, her eye twitching as she moved. She was dressed in the school uniform, with a straight tie and neatly pressed shirt every high school girl in his school wore. She was wearing the standard slacks, though, instead of the girls' usual pleated skirt. But she was not comfortably graceful as she'd been in the frilly skirts and high socks. She seemed to sink into herself, clutching at a bag.

"Is he here?" Doll asked, her lips quivering.

Ciel stared at her blankly. "Why are you asking me?"

Doll shook her head violently. In the seconds she did, the tightly coifed hair splayed wrongly. A hint of white, sterile cotton stretched over skin so pink it could only be ruined. Even that glimpse made her seem…nearly broken.

"You're not even a first year." She shook her head, and he couldn't help but think that the words came almost thoughtlessly. "A junior high student. No wonder I never noticed you." She gazed at Ciel, examining him at length.

Ciel stared at her, wondering how she found out. _Has there always been a spy? Has the mass-media leaked it out, or are they better connected than I thought? Is that uniform fake…?_

"You're a student here!" He blurted out, then recovered. He licked his lips. In a rush of understanding, he remembered, and with the memory came the words. "Redmond mentioned that you're on the school dance team a while back…"

This link between them made her smile and lean in. Some of her girlishness returned. "And you're the boy everyone was talking about. Funny we never noticed each other before. Is it true the new teacher spanked you?"

Ciel did not like where this conversation was going. He coughed. "Let's sit down." He motioned her to the closest set of chairs by the window. When she settled, he asked, "How long have you been spying for Noah's Arc?"

"I wasn't spying. Father just wanted me to go to this school." She pulled at the plain cotton eye patch under her hair self-consciously. She moved her hands away, carefully shifting her hair back in place. "But that's not why I came. That man you were with… Sebastian Michaelis. He came for me the other night."

_So that's what drove her out of hiding. And she hasn't connected him with 'the new teacher,' either…_ Ciel sat rigid for a long moment, and then he leaned into his chair. _What was my dad saying about me being safe here?_, he fumed silently. Out loud, he only said, "Ah. Him. Is that who you wanted to know was here or not? Huh, what am I saying? Of course he is."

"He wanted me to…anyway, he found me, and then I came back," she whispered.

Somewhere in the café, a student dropped their spoon amidst shrieks and giggles. The normal sounds seemed far away, another word entirely.

_That can't be the whole story._Time to scare her into talking. Sweetness wouldn't work any longer. "'Father' Tom Kelvin sent you to the others on a suicide mission. He expected people to die in that place." Ciel paused, and considered her expression—_Her lips are tightly pursed— she's unmoved, and unconvinced. Defiant, if anything. _So he pressed the point. "_Including_ your classmates. He used you, all of you. What did he want—to topple the government from a department store?" Ciel didn't bother to hide his scorn.

"He didn't need us. It was pre-ordained." Where Beast would have been vicious, Doll was sullen.

"So he made it your religion?" All of Ciel's theories came spilling forth, ruthless, blameless, and barren of all softeners. "He took you in when 'nobody else' would, didn't he? He gave you things. So you worshiped him like a god," he accused.

_They say that what you hate most in others is what reminds you of yourself….of your failings,_ his mother had told him. Her hands were soft, but her smile hard. That day, her self-hatred was more apparent than her love.

"That's not it at all! And no one's going to _die,_" she hissed. Her hands twitched. Perhaps he should have given her a tea…something to distract her.

"What about you lot? What if they get the death sentence?" Was he being cruel, or honest? Ciel didn't know.

"No one died. You said." Doll stuck her chin out. "Why are _you_ tied up in this? That day, Father mentioned a boy…I mean, Peter and Wendy said….they said it was all for you….and the Michaelis wanted me to…well, I don't think Wendy and Peter are safe."

"Those two knew about me?" Ciel leaned forward. "What does that old man want with me?" Ciel whispered, keeping his voice low and quiet.

"I don't know. I only just found out." Doll gave a little sigh and twisted something in her bag. "It's been a while since I came to school…I don't understand why things turned out like this. We just wanted to show people The Way."

"What do you know about Father?" He persisted relentlessly.

"What?" Doll started.

"He seemed to…know some things. Information most people aren't privileged to." Ciel kept his eyes on hers, though she refused to meet his gaze. Nevertheless, he barely saw the girl. Instead, he saw Kelvin, surrounded by police raving at the crowd, and Sebastian, covered in blood. "He knows the wrong people."

Doll shook her head quickly, but said nothing.

"Why ithat/i day?"

"It was holy…"

"No. There's more than that. _Tell_ me." Ciel snapped, forgetting to keep his voice low.

Doll seemed to notice her surroundings. She glanced nervously at her left, then to her right. Her visible eye brimmed with tears. "I don't know."

"That man led you on like sheep! He comforted and shaped you to be his slaves. What he did was vile; he used you—and other children, probably. He's perverse, deluded, and greedy for power." Ciel condemned the man he didn't understand, hiding from his fear.

"Why…why do you hate him?"

"I don't. I've never met him." Ciel resisted the urge to look away, to rub away a burn that never really left him. He resisted, but barely.

"He's not like that!" She shook her head. "He's good, and kind, and wise."

Ciel sighed impatiently. "He's not what he says. He's a liar. He hurts people!"

"How would iyou/i know?" Her voice was anguished.

"He knows my name!" They were both shouting now.

The café was hushed, except for a small cluster of teachers. But they weren't teachers, or not all of them, anyway. Two police officers in pristine uniforms were walking steadily closer to Ciel and Doll.

"Don't tell me…" Ciel muttered, _someone…recognized her?_ Once again, information hadn't been sent his way, even if it pertained to one of his classmates. _If the police knew she was there—that she went to school _here—_ they should have told me!_

Doll too caught sight of the police. She sprung out of her chair, clutching for something in her bag again. She seemed torn between two actions—unable to come to a decision.

Something shifted to the side, and Ciel caught a glimpse red eyes. There was nearly no sound. It was eerie, how fast and silent he moved…but it was the bemused smile that kept drawing his attention.

She too caught sight of Sebastian and her eye widened in fear. She was like a tiny bird waiting for the instant to fly away. But instead of dashing past Ciel and running for a last, desperate escape, however, Doll lunged forward, something shone in the sunlight.

Ciel stepped back in surprise as the girl gave a feral cry and islashed/i toward Ciel's middle. Ciel was vaguely aware of the fact that someone wailed with fright, that the police were running now, but they were too far. Doll was right there, a sharp knife in her hand.

Suddenly Sebastian's arms were in the way, swirling Ciel out of reach.

Doll screamed, the noise guttural and wild in the back of her throat. She seemed completely crazed, the way she frantically thrust the knife toward the demon.

Sebastian simply caught her wrist, and the blade clattered away.

_All /i of the café was screaming now, even as the police instructed, "Everyone. Please calm down and stay where you are. iStay_ where you are."

Then the unbelievable, soothing words that neither child believed. "Miss…we only need to ask you a few questions." The other police officer, put a firm hand on her shoulder to steer her away from Ciel.

_They lied. Police and everyone always lie…_ Ciel felt a bitter anger he hadn't felt since the aftermath of his tenth birthday.

Ciel glared at Sebastian. "Did you bring her here? Why did you even visit her—what were you planning, some more stress to get me to make that contract?" Ciel's voice was shrill, harsh. What did he care if anyone overheard him? Maybe someone else count restrain the demon when he couldn't.

"Sssh, calm down, little master. You didn't find her charming?" Sebastian cocked his head to the side as he ushered Ciel to a (different) chair. "I would have made a contract with her, instead."

Ciel was surprised with the angry jealousy this comment inspired in him. _Why would he even offer his services to her?_ Ciel's eyes filled with hurt.

Sebastian laughed. "You look like the maiden tricked out of her virginity."

Ciel sputtered. He decided, despairingly, that ignoring Sebastian was seeming more and more out of the question.

"Just go away," he demanded, trying to sound annoyed and angry.

"Why so sullen?" Sebastian asked, pushing a cup of tea into his hands.

Ciel looked away. Then he said, slowly, "If you can explain everything to my satisfaction..." he paused, and his blue eyes met Sebastian's. "We might have something to consider."

Sebastian schooled his expression into the perfect butler's mask. "Of course, my lord. Leave it to me." Sebastian coughed. "Well, I believe the police wish to have a talk with all of these witnesses, and probably want to interview a number of the students who knew Doll. It seems your school may get some unprecedented attention, Ciel. Unless," he licked his lips, "you make a contract and order me to hush it up, of course."

Sebastian's smile never looked more like a leer.

"It'll be hours before I can go anywhere," Ciel sighed.

"Ah, but that doesn't suit my plans. How about we have them talk to you first? I'm sure your story hasn't changed since the first time…" Sebastian drew closer to the remaining police officer. He reached forward, touching the man on the shoulder. Something happened between the two that Ciel couldn't quite make out. A shiver went down his back, and Ciel wondered what tricks the demon was up to.

The police officer came over to where Ciel was watching with wide eyes. "Thank you for making your statement. I understand that you didn't know about your classmate's connection with the terrorists group?"

"She isn't my classmate. I didn't even know her." Ciel gaped.

"I'm sure you'll want to be going. Be sure to stay near the other students, and listen to your teachers," The police officer instructed, frowning at Ciel in a half confused way.

Sebastian smiled at the officer in a patronizing sort of way as he ushered Ciel to the door. "I have something to show you Ciel. Come with me, and see if I can't grant some of your desires."

Ciel wondered if there was anything he could do to keep from following after the demon, but pushed that thought aside.

"Is it about Noah's Arc?"

"No, it's about your father." With that, Sebastian didn't say anything more. He simply lifted Ciel into his arms, and as he had that night on the rooftop, leapt out into the night at unbelievable speed.

Ciel turned his face away from the stinging wind, and breathed in deeply. Sebastian's hand curled around his cheek momentarily, but he made no complaint.

Sebastian's touch was soft. He did not press Ciel anymore than that.

_What have I just agreed to?_

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tbc...

…this story just doesn't want to end. XD I wrote this chapter in response to readers who had questions about the Circus and father and "what they are up to." I hope to hear back from some of you readers! Sadly, you all seem busy... But! Review! I need inspiration to write. XD

Thoughts? Long reviews or conversations inspire me like none other!


	32. That Butler's Last, desperate move

**Thank you** to Carrie for your phenomenal beta and support. Without your encouragement, I would have lost interest ages ago.

**Thank you** reviewers for inspiring me, and reminding me that someone is actually reading and enjoying my work. Thank you all other readers too, because reading is fun.

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**Chapter 32:** _That Butler's Last, desperate move_

(Sebastian)

I stopped near the Phantomhive home, and set Ciel down. I gently leaned over him, pressing him up against a neighbor's sidewall so that our foreheads touched. Ciel held his breath.

"I'm afraid our time to dance is limited, little master. I must leave you tomorrow evening," I said.

Ciel shoved me away. "Tell me you didn't come to show me this _wall_." His cheeks flushed, and he seemed inexplicably breathless.

I chuckled. "I shall escort you in. Wait here while I turn the alarm system off, if you could? I'll be right back. Try not to be abducted in my absence."

Ciel's biting tone trailed after me as I turned away. "You were right there the last time. Your presence doesn't seem to make a difference," he snorted.

"It does today." I didn't _want_ to lose him now.

Shortly afterward, I whisked the boy away again, carrying him through the manor gates and up a flight of stairs. I had him pressed up against his father's study door in the blink of an eye, so all that was left was to set him down and nudge the door open just a crack. There was a phone call going on.

Looking in on the scene, I contemplated Vincent Phantomhive. He was not a loud man. He didn't roar his disapproval, and he didn't yell his instructions. His calm demeanor was very traditional in fact, and amidst modern conveniences it struck me as quite...interesting.

"They've apprehended the girl." Vincent seemed to be testing the phrase, requesting information without phrasing it as a question. As he waited for the reply, he caught his breath soundlessly. Whoever was on the other receiver could not have noticed his stiffening, or his shifting eyes as he waited for more information.

"What do you mean he had no additional report to add? Wasn't the terrorist girl talking to him? She might have let some information slip— double check. I'm sure there's a statement report there." Vincent paused to listen to some response. "Yes, you said that already. Tell me what happened. I need to know _how_ you caught her, if anyone else was hurt, and if you found out anything more about what they know about _my son._"

Charming, that. It seemed he was keener on finding out what the evil-doers knew about his 'dear child' than he was on learning what Ciel knew about the evil-doers. Did Ciel notice? I glanced his way.

Ciel leaned against me, stifling his intake of breath. He seemed unaffected by our proximity in his fascination with the conversation, and in his desire to hear more, he pressed close indeed. I caught him by the arm and held him so that I could hear his beating heart...

Ciel squirmed, shooting me a glare.

"Kelvin has been to one of my dinner parties, yes. I completely dismissed him." Vincent ran a hand through his hair, frowning severely. "Who would have thought he was connected to the train station kidnappings? Have we found any more bodies? I can go out there myself…I have some ideas about where he would keep them."

Ciel's surprise was not complete- he had surely suspected that his father knew more than he was letting on- and he curled that little mouth into a frown. _Secrets do not sit well with him,_ I thought, and wondered how to use that.

"We're talking about biracial children, and immigrant children, right? Some of them were involved in international custody battles before they went missing. (*1) I think that some of the children who disappeared from the public records might have ended up in his hands. There could easily be more than a half dozen bodies. We can find some evidence if we look." Vincent took an agitated step, and there was a scuffing noise on the wooden panels. "Unless he dropped them in the sea or buried them in a mountain," he sighed under his breath.

I glanced down at Ciel. He was as expressionless as I've seen him, and no sign of sympathy showed for the ones closest to his age in this case...his lack of empathy suggested a few possible explanations.

Curiosity licked at my attention, but I focused instead on the child as he was _now_ standing before me. If I could secure the contract... there would be time enough for answers.

I tapped Ciel's shoulder, and ran two long fingers down his neck. "Useful, isn't it? I could tell you so much more." Ciel shivered at my touch. "Unfortunately, I see no reason to assist you without a contract any longer…what do you say, Ciel?"

He turned his blue eyes on me, uncomprehending.

"Will you make a contract with me, or wait until the world counts you ready to know of such dealings in your own time? What will it be—a contract, or ignorance?"

Ciel made to go back to listening at the door, gesturing for me to be quiet. Amusement mixed with irritation as I silently closed it, and I lifted his head so he'd look into my eyes. _He won't hear anyone but me now._

"Your choice."

Sadly, that seemed to be the wrong approach for a fourteen-year-old boy planning on becoming a part of the underworld. Ciel stamped his foot. "You already know all of this, don't you? You think this is some sort of classy temptation or something. Justtell me what you know and stop teasing me!"

I closed my eyes in exasperation and counted the seconds. _Of course, my voice won't carry when I don't want it to, but Ciel is all too human. Any noise he makes carries like a stone in a case of glass._ I had just enough time to make myself scarce before—

The door opened of its own accord, revealing Vincent Phantomhive. He was surprised into stopping mid-step, and motionless, he watched his son.

Ciel did not appear to know what to say.

Vincent was pale as the dead. "Ciel! When did you get here? Why aren't you with the police in your school? _How_ did you get here not an hour since— the, the capture?"

Another moment of silence as the two Phantomhives regarded each other.

When confronted unexpectedly, humans have the annoying tendency to tell the truth. "Sebastian," Ciel said simply, falling back a step and trying to clear his mind. "Sebastian Michaelis."

Damn all children for their good sense.

When I should have been safely shrouded in shadow out of sight and out of mind, the boy who gave me my name (my would-be master...) calling me broke the spell. I was clearly visible for all to see.

Vincent's jaw dropped open. _It's not very often you see that in person, _I thought. He looked at his watch again, as though more time might have passed to allow us time to have arrived in the country house. His brow furrowed, and before I knew it, he had a gun pointed at my chest. "Step against the wall."

"Mr. Phantomhive," I said pleasantly. "Good afternoon."

I turned my gaze on Ciel. Had I irritated him enough to make him risk my capture? Or would he protect a trump card who _told_ him things? Ciel remained silent, watching my every move.

Vincent's eyes had the same look that Ciel's did when he was put in a corner. He stepped cleanly out of the doorframe and pressed his advantage, skillfully moving so that Ciel was not in the line of fire. Surely, though, he would not shoot. The ricocheting fragments could very well harm his…precious…son.

His phone, abandoned on the floor, vibrated with the little voice coming out of it. "Phantomhive! What is the situation? Do you need assistance?" Streamed out with a few other questions in high pitched, nearly panicked Japanese.

I hoped Ciel would step on the damned thing, or at least push the "end call" button, but he remained where he was.

"Let's talk about this at the station, Michaelis. If you have any information, we're willing to listen to you." Vincent's hand was steady. He maneuvered himself in front of Ciel, as though to block him from me.

I watched the events unfold as still and removed as a statue. Would Vincent explain the situation away on his own? Some people could explain the impossible if given the barest opportunity.

"You will be explaining to me, Mr. Michaelis, exactly what your connection is to the current investigation, and you will tell me what interest my son is to you." Phantomhive's voice was dangerously low, but he spoke so slowly, with such an air of calm that Ciel flinched. I sensed the little one's discomfort, but he wanted information more than he wanted me unhurt.

Ciel knew, after all, what little trouble bullets were to me.

"Did you enjoy the gift, Ciel? I'm sure daddy will be happy to share a bit more information now." I looked past the man and into those deep blue eyes.

I spared a glance for Vincent, whose finger squeezed around the trigger. He had the weapon trained on my leg, now. I ignored him, and cast another spell. One that would cost most of my dwindling energy. I spoke in a register that Vincent could not decode. Only my intended would understand the next words. "Call my name. Agree to the contract and I will come to you."

_A step into the other, a whisper of wings few could see, and the taste of blood on my lips._  
The world blurred as I moved to disarm Vincent, kicking the gun out of his hand which sent a loud ringing shot and caused the ceiling to rain down around father and son. Ciel's eyes were vacant, and Vincent's wide with surprise and horror.

But the gun itself was misdirected, and the only lasting harm would be to Phantomhive's pride. He was likely an excellent marksman ordinarily. _Ah, but even small revenge is sweet._

I slipped away with a step, mist and darkness reaching in where it did not belong. They would never notice those tantalizing few seconds Hell found their world, but it would leak into their eyes and make them dizzy with despair or exhilaration, depending on the nature of the soul.

I hoped Ciel would moan, pant with the desire to see the door I opened. I hoped he would lessen his grip on this world and enter mine…

…but for the time being, I waited. A demon can always wait

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...tbc...

**Notes:**

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*1 In the year 2009, 705 Children under 9 and 18,827 children and teens from age 10-19 were reported missing in Japan

**Details: **The missing persons numbers above translates to 6.4 children under 9; and 156.6 children and teens from a sample population of about 10-thousand people. This information is from the PDF titled (警察庁生活安全局生活安全企画課: National Police Agency, National Public Safety Commission of the Cabinet Office, Public Safety Plan Division) (Page 3, bottom chart) The chart heading reads: (missing people numbers from Year 2009 /Heisei 22 with a population sample around a hundred thousand)《人口10万人当たりの行方不明者数（平成22年）》(My translation. May not match the official English. If you know, feel free to tell me the bureau and department's correct names)

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**A/N:** thank you all for all of the inspiring conversations. Especially you constant companions (Promocat, Paxloria, Kuro-Otaku292, Aservis Roturier, animelovernewbie, and Carrie again.); you have consistently been inspiration for me. I love hearing your ideas and being inspired in turn by your original ways of thinking.

Thanks again to Narutopokefan, SisterOfScarletDevil, Krowley , Kuro Penny, architecture of destruction, and others (guests, earlier reviewers, you cool ppl you). It may have been a while, but I remember your input, and I appreciate your interest. :) I hope you enjoy what's left to tell... Thoughts? How did you find this sometimes poetic, sometimes action-y scene?


	33. That Butler: the end?

Thank you to Carrie for the beta. You are amazing. :) It's been fun chatting with you!

Thank you readers for reading. :D Thank you especially reviewers for inspiring me to finish. Thank you also to people who favorite, watch, or otherwise enjoy this fic. I appreciate your support!

oOoOoOoOo

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**Chapter 31:** _The end?_

The moonrise of my last day came.

I had so little substance left, practically unfettered and roaming the world for a lunar cycle with no sustenance. My shape seemed to fluctuate with each step I took. One moment my form was elongated—a black shape too thin and strange to be human. Then the next I was an echo of myself the day before— a more common height with black hair still, but with skin unnaturally white.

I crept in the shadows of the trees toward him, still sleeping in his family home. I perched on the windowsill for a long moment, basking in the moonlight, my eyes never straying. We could have been alone in all the world for that moment, I took so little notice of anyone else. I drifted in on the morning breeze and settled myself into his bed. I noticed that my nails too were longer and faintly curved as I slipped my arms around the slight figure of the boy. I buried my face into his hair, taking in the scent of him.

He stirred, stiffened, and opened his eyes.

Ciel let out a screech.

I laughed and held him all the tighter, bringing a long finger to his lips. "Shh. Good morning, little master."

"I didn't summon you," Ciel croaked.

"I came anyway." I chuckled.

There was a noise at the door just before it opened. The familiar figure of Bard was silhouetted in the moonlight, and I saw the raw truth of him. He is a killer, but one who feels compassion for his 'brother' soldiers and his employer's son, as was evident due to his alertness to the noise and acted swiftly. "Everything ok in here, kid?"

"Someone's in the room!" Ciel squeaked.

Bard flicked on the lights, his right hand reaching for a weapon in his back pocket. He stalked forward heavily.

"No smoke grenades, Bard. Asthma!" Ciel was on his feet, looking around his covers for me. His little hands clutched at the fabric, and his eyes were wide; he was near desperate. The look suited him.

Bard muttered a half apology, and continued sticking his nose in all parts of the room. The odds-and-ends family was quite protective of the little thing.

I chuckled and left them to their search.

I spent the day watching him. The light dimmed as it became late afternoon, and still he did not call. From my vantage point in the tree, I looked through Ciel's window.

I remembered Ciel sitting with his father, and then imagined the few minutes after I left them. Did Vincent hold his only child? Did he cry into Ciel's hair, heaving with regret and looking for injury? Did his hands tremble as he thought how close he was to losing the boy? I could taste his regret, his sadness, and the fierce love that welled up in him even from here. He'd left after that, doubtless to harass the police into moving in the right direction.

I contemplated Vincent Phantomhive a little longer. I think_that_ soul might be delicious as well…so much grief. But then, there was so much loyalty too.

I let my thoughts wander further still. Perhaps after I had the son, I could tempt the grieving father…a child's form would do. I could present myself as a devilishly talented boy, a visage that would remind him of the missing one. There was a kind of elegance to taking entire families that appealed to me. But Ciel was first. He would always be first on my mind.

Vincent came into Ciel's room around lunch. He was carrying a small cake set, and with him, Mei-Rin sported a pot of tea and cups. "Would you like a cup of tea?" he asked, employing some of his infamous charm.

Ciel nodded as he looked at his father distrustfully.

"Here or in the dining room?" Mei-Rin asked quietly.

Ciel shrugged.

Mei-Rin laughed nervously, but it sounded more like a cry to me. "We'll pick up any crumbs Master Phantomhive, don't you worry. You just enjoy the—whoops—"

Vincent prevented the cups and pot from crashing by the simple expedient of catching the rim of the tray, but the spoons were not as fortunate. Hot water splashed and metal clattered.

Ciel looked at the mess. He seemed to be thinking of something, for while the adults commandeered a table to arrange the sweets. He spoke softly in English. " Sebastian wasn't _your_ man then."

Stupid question. He knew that already.

"Not so far as we can tell," Vincent allowed grudgingly. "He hasn't tried to—"

"—no." Ciel interrupted. "He hasn't emailed, phoned, texted or messaged me. As you very well know." He looked his father in the eyes as he said it, arrogance and a challenge clearly expressed on his face.

I chuckled at the boy's impertinence.

Vincent, unperturbed, quirked his lips in a humorless smile. "You'd tell me if he did?" He leaned against the wall.

Mei-Rin exited with a quiet word, closing the door with a look at Ciel. She seemed torn between her desire to defend the master of the house and comfort Ciel, but she lacked the words for either. So she left.

"He's not with that…circus." Ciel said slowly. "A free agent, I think." He was giving away so little, but he had his father's attention now.

Vincent closed his eyes, ignoring the prompt to treaty for information. "You said he was a demon." His hands trembled very slightly as he covered his face. He stayed that way for a minute, and he seemed no longer an agent in the underworld so much as he looked a grieving parent.

Ciel regarded Vincent silently. "I could tell you everything," He said boldly. "If you were to tell me more."

Vincent looked up at that, and his face cleared. "You told me about the man she called Father. About Doll." Had he now? That was foolish.

"Yes." By saying it aloud, Ciel challenged the very reason _why_ Ciel was in the room, instead of hunting shadows. Chasing footprints…

Vincent's eyes were sharp, but his mouth was soft, forgiving. "I'm worried about you." He said at last. "And…I suppose I should apologize." His sigh filled the room.

"Yes." Ciel agreed.

"…Gray didn't find anything amiss," Vincent revealed, watching his son with a trace of his old composure. He stood straighter, looking for sign of assent, or maybe satisfaction from his only son. "Michaelis was a private person, and so he didn't leave any of the usual clues."

Ciel snorted. "Gray was going to tell you, 'no problem,' then? Before…" Ciel code-switched at a furious speed between Japanese and English, pushing the natural limits of language with his insistent remarks. "You're listening _now_ because it was almost too late!"

Vincent abandoned his cool aloofness. He took several quick steps to his son, and at last I got a look at one of these tender family moments. "Ciel." He grasped the boy's shoulders, intending to hold him no doubt, to feel the boy's breath on his neck and know intrinsically that Ciel _lived._

But the boy stiffened. He flinched when he was touched, and only reluctantly presented a kissable cheek.

Vincent froze. Awkward, he dropped his hands, choosing instead to nod at the bed. "Sit with me?"

Ciel complied wordlessly.

"You know I'm supposed to tell you that it's all right now…" Vincent said softly. "That it's all a coincidence, and not to let you in on any more details of the case. It's my duty, they say," he looked off, "to reassure you that your fears are only in your mind."

A moment passed.

He finally succumbed to the desire to grasp Ciel's hand. Nothing like_touch_ to make the world fall in on itself.

Ciel allowed this small comfort, and he leaned on his father's shoulder. He would not relax, but he gave the semblance of a childish need to be coddled. Whereas Vincent saw his sweet, hurting boy, I saw a scheming and intelligent soul. If only his thirst for vengeance was a _little_ stronger. I could gladly take him into my embrace.

"But I'm not so certain…" Vincent finished quietly. "Not certain at all."

Ciel closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face. It's not surprising, really, that a child should be shaken by his father's admission of weakness. Did he truly think his father could make it all right?

…maybe I should have attacked his family from the beginning. Subtlety, of course, so he'd never know it was me.

Then Ciel was at last returning the hug, leaning into his father's arms and offering whatever fierce assurances those slender arms could manage. Ciel wouldn't only want to be protected, I realized. He would rather be in control…for he simply didn't want to lose what he had left.

Fascinating, but not high on my priorities.

Just then, Mei-Rin opened the door. She turned pink at the sight of her Master-of-the-House actually showing signs of softer emotions. "Ahh—" she exclaimed, uncomfortable and awkward. "I…um…brought spoons…"

Vincent waved a hand vaguely, apparently unable to speak.

She wavered. "I'll…um…leave them on the table…" she tiptoed out.

When the door closed, Ciel said, cryptically, "I don't think we'll have to worry about Sebastian much longer."

"Ciel." From my viewpoint, Vincent looked up, some of the fear and desperation fading to make way for exasperation. "What on earth could you gain from keeping information about Sebastian from me? You realize he is a threat."

Ciel scowled. "Don't try to bully me into giving you information like one of your informants. I'm your son!"

Vincent sighed, shifting his weight so he could face his son. "I'm sorry you feel that way. Ciel, I just want to know more about the situation so we can think of a solution."

I resisted the urge to snort. I doubt that Vincent could come up with any lasting "solution" to my presence.

"You won't believe me." Ciel's face was blank, and he looked at a place just past his father's eyes.

Vincent raised an eyebrow, and waited.

Ciel was silent. He said in a quiet voice, "I remember that you told me, once…that by saying nothing, people will often feel compelled to fill the silence, and thus reveal more than you could find out than by interrogating them." He met his father's gaze, and his voice was hard. "How am I different from any of your low-life informants?"

After that, Vincent couldn't get another word out of him; the damage was done.

"….have some cake?" Vincent tried. "It's your favorite."

I peered with interest at the cake, wondering if it was. Ciel seemed like a boy who changed his 'favorite' every month.

Ciel glowered, and turned away. He steadfastly ignored the invitation.  
I waited, and drifted, amused as Vincent's temper got the better of him. He finally left some minutes later with a quiet invitation to talk if Ciel needed to.

Time passed.

The sun began to set, and the moon with it. Soon it would be hidden from this face of the world, and the sky would empty at last. The deal would be done. I concentrated to stay there as the edges of my form nearly crackled. The terms of the Challenge were near as binding as a contract, and the time was nearly up.

All this for only one soul. But what a soul it would be…

The servants were taking shifts again with their watches, and the house was bustling with the activity. Only Tanaka kept to the lower floors, and the others took their turns standing, pacing, guarding their precious _botchan._ He was only a child. Fairy tales and older stories promised his innocence. I wanted him for myself, but they did too. Most everyone loves a child.

I thought of touching his cheek with feather-soft hands. I thought of looking into his blue eyes to my red, and I thought of my tongue tasting his. Tasting him.

_Ciel._ I called, pushing my desire into the name. I pulled at him with the promise of memories taken. I held those memories Agares took in an open hand, offered them to him._Ciel,_ I whispered with memories shared.

It is a small thing to summon a human. Much less difficult or perilous than summoning a demon. But humans can choose to answer or not, and Ciel?

He answered.

"You treasure information above all else, don't you?" I whispered, and my voice was as rustling leaves on the wind.

Although I was right before him, Ciel looked around, uncertain of my direction. "You really are leaving, aren't you?" His voice was hallow, tinged with bitterness. "You didn't tell me it was because you were_weak._ Can't you even manage to stay longer?"

I touched him gently with the memories. They flashed in his eyes, turning the right (the stronger of the two) a brilliant violet. The left eye was unchanged. Curious...tantalizing, even.

"Do you remember naming me?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, confused and overawed. The memory I reminded him of was sticking in his mind like thorns. He might even be partially blind in the one eye. Was it a result of the spell, or was he damaged before? I wondered.

"You started something then. I gave you the keys to myself by allowing you to name me." I shook my head. "Such powers at your fingertips…but at every turn, you slighted me." I stepped forward, and something burned. "Rejected my contract."

Ciel, to his credit, did not tremble. Perhaps he saw my eyes, perhaps my teeth. "What will happen to you?"

He was ever curious. I was silent for a long moment, weighing my options. I could answer, or…I could let him wonder. A cloud slowly drifted across the face of the moon, sending a last moonbeam to strengthen me.

"Nothing you could offer me is worth the price," Ciel said. He shook his head, just as Doll had. "You want my soul, don't you? It's a Faustian contract."

"You say these words as though they mean something to you." In an instant, I cupped his chin in my hands, and the contact strengthened me. I breathed on the one eye, sharing what little I had left. But it couldn't take hold without the stubborn thing's consent. "Will you be a player in the game, or a piece left to be captured?"

Ciel was silent and still. He had no objections then. Hadn't for some time, I realized.

Even so, the damned must choose their own path. "I was sure you'd walk unflinchingly, your back against the light….into hell…at the promise of a crown of victory," I told him, softly. I gave up on restraint and traced the shape of his lips, looking for something there. "Is it because your father still lives that you were able to recover that day?" I leaned forward, and our foreheads touched. "Why didn't you summon me then?"

"Sometimes I think I died that day," Ciel admitted, and his hands came up to meet mine, pulling at my fingers. "And the only part of me that's left is…." he seemed unable to put it in words.

I looked down at him, impassive. _Human suffering is a delight to taste. Thirst for revenge, broken innocence, these things wet my tongue and carry a spice like none other._

"Maybe," he finished lamely. It was all he could say for a time.

I twisted a piece of his hair. "It's too late for maybes..." I told him. "Call me back when you are older…when you are willing to dare more."

But I would miss his childish impudence. I would long for the taste of a heart unfinished and unrefined, and a defenselessness encouraged by the unknown world. Children's souls are sweet, sour, demanding.

I wrapped my arms about his shoulder. "You could be the king atop a mound of corpses with me as your servant. There would be no information we could not find together."

Ciel looked up at me, and I thought I saw understanding there. "Cleanse with fire," He said, unexpectedly.

I didn't know what to make of his words. He did not elaborate.

"The moon has set. Goodbye, Ciel Phantomhive." My lips were on his slightly open mouth. A stolen kiss, burning yet with promise.

He tasted of wistfulness, old despair, and undirected anger. I would take it with me into the dark.

Ciel, outraged, thrust a hand against his mouth and yelled something indistinct.

As I left the world, the wind howled a song for me, the moon hid her face. And the boy hid his eyes. My laughter bent the trees in the window, so wild was my amusement. I let too much of myself out in that laugh, and the world trembled for it.

It was time to meet the challenger again.

I left, tasting disappointment along with regret. Ciel's lips had been, after all, very sweet indeed.

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oOoOoOoOo

tbc...

Notes:

...this is either close to the end, or this will simply be a good "stopping point" while I go on hiatus to do Uni applications, etc, etc... (I am nervous, yes. Who isn't?) Kinda depends on muse-ish-y whim, and reader response. ...and there is a short epilogue/teaser coming up. It may become longer if you guys remind me of something I forgot, and provided I can address it in one last chapter. ^^!

So! What did you think of Sebastian spying on Ciel before he left? :D Any parting thoughts on Vincent and Ciel's home-life? Or what about on Sebastian's form (not his true form, no, but a form of his), or Sebastian's demonic despair...? (Sorry. Couldn't resist that last one. XD)

Seriously, what'd you think?


	34. Epilogue

**Thank you** Carrie for the beta and the conversation. Your persistence and kindness never ceases to amaze.

**Thank you **: animelovernewbie, Paxloria, aroturier, promocat, Kuro-Otaku292, Carrie again, and guests for commenting. Your comments inspire me!

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**Author's Note:**

On Writing & Inspiration:

( This is "Epilogue " or "teaser 2," if I get motivated to continue this story. Depends on how enthusiastic my readers are! Feel free to watch the story for updates—it will be a few months at the earliest before I have time to write again…if I write on this one again. Dreaded uni applications cannot be avoided.)

Just for the record, (MANGA SPOILER….) I started writing this story back when it was plausible that Agares could have been a demon. (((sigh)))

Hope you enjoyed this story! It was a LOT of fun to plan and write. It's one of the more water-tight plots I've written, so I'm decently happy with it, though I'll probably go back and edit casually for word choice typos etc as I reread it.

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**Epilogue**

(Ciel)

"Ciel!" Mei-rin called out. "I brought you a sweet. Your father's still conferencing…" She smiled nervously; clearly afraid Ciel would react wrongly at the mention of Vincent. Vincent, who she felt should be home, and was _not._

"He's trying to find out things," Ciel said quietly. "He'll be back soon enough."

A moment of silence passed between them.

"Do you need me to air out your sheets?" She asked brightly. "Or do you want to call him? I don't think he'd mind."

Ciel shook his head. "He spent all day with me. And he'll be back tomorrow."

When she left, Ciel turned back to his silence. His room seemed stifling, no longer welcoming with its old comforts and soft colors. He left his designs half-finished on the table, and he went to sit in the tree swing at the side of the house.

"Hellooooo!" Finnian called out, marching around the garden with long branch-clippers. "Ciel! Are you busy?"

"What, Finny?"

"Master P. will be home for dinner!" Finny shouted, relentlessly cheerful.

Ciel nodded and looked away. Finnian might have chattered for a moment longer, but Ciel wasn't listening, so eventually he was alone again, left to think.

Things were, Ciel decided, decidedly quieter without a demon around.

He looked without seeing the family garden as he thought of all the troubles Sebastian had caused. Sebastian's interference at school caused Ciel to lose a lot of his 'quiet, good boy' reputation, what with rumors of corporal punishment, near-sexual-harassment experiences, and the general irritation of having the whole school notice him.

But then there was the whole Circus affair. _I would have gone to that event even if Sebastian wasn't bothering me,_ he thought, _and then where would I be?_

The thought was a chilling one.

_But didn't he keep things from me? He snuck around my father's investigations. He snuck around school. He even went to Doll, and who knows what he learned?_

Uncertainty and fear clung to his heart, making his chest heavy and breath catch.

_While he was talking to Doll...and after...what did he find?_

At the same time, he thought, _What would they have done with me, if Sebastian wasn't there?_ His chances of sneaking out undetected were slim. Ciel knew that. Some things became glaringly obvious and previous held ideas seemed naïve after what he'd been through.

He sighed. He really should be celebrating...without a demon to drag him to unexpected outings; he would have time to cultivate his reputation. To consider what he wanted for High School.

"Why?" He wondered softly, touching his lips, then rubbing at his eye. It pulsed with the phantom of pain. "Why was he so interested in me?"

_Now that I know about things like demons, I can't just forget that they exist. Even father doesn't seem to know about those things…_ Ciel felt dizzy, contemplating a world he didn't understand.

Ciel felt his eye again, and remembered. _"Will you be a player in the game, or a piece left to be captured?"_ He clenched his fist. Was it even a choice?

"What price would I pay to join in the game?" Ciel asked the cold sky. Not even the wind had an answer.

Ciel considered the night sky and the pale moon so far away and thought. "Sebastian," he whispered, and held his breath.

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_(Fin._)

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Want to inspire your author? Start some interesting conversation with me in the comments! Add my story to your favorites. Recommend me to C2s, or follow the story (or my pen-name!)

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**Possible ideas to inspire so far:**  
* does Ciel get the better of his dad?

*What the heck does Undertaker have to do with this?

What else do you want to know? If it interests me enough, we'll be on our way for a continuation. ^^!

On a side note, don't you love it when someone gets the better of Sebastian? He tries too hard to be perfect. But then, Ciel doesn't seem like he's won either…. (((tries to sound mysterious…)))

Thanks again for reading.


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